Peggy suggested we read Rita Dove, “Thomas and Beulah.” and as an exercise (homework) she suggested we find evocative details in something we had written so far and make them work harder. She also listed e-mail addresses for the three faculty. Hers is peggyzoe at gmail dot com. (The form is to evade robot searches for e-mail addresses.)
David pointed out how a detail in a first draft can become the theme around which the story revolves. Homework: revise something you’ve written, keeping this in mind. e-mail:dcrouse1 at alaska dot edu.
Jeanne had several readings from class members and emphasized playing with images. She introduced the catalog poem and had us read three and discuss them:
Snow by W. S. Merwin
Freedom of Love, by André Bretou
Jubilate Agno, by David Lee, in memoriam Christopher Smart, 1722-1770
Not discussed was the pattern for Jubilate Agno, Christpher Smart’s Of Jeoffry, His Cat.
Our homework was to write a catalog poem. Jeanne’s email address is bellestarrgang at gmail dot com
Theresa Bakker
Our afternoon guest writer was Theresa Bakker. She told us how she was pushed to using walking as a theme, and discussed a number of books on walking. These books were:
Joseph Amato: On Foot: A History of Walking
Geoff Nicholson: The Lost Art of Walking
Chet Raymo: The Path: A One-Mile Walk Through the Universe
Ned Rozell: Walking My Dog, Jane
Rebecca, Solnit: Wanderlust; A History of Walking
Henry D. Thoreau: Walking: Concord 1862
Edmund White: The Flaneur
We also discussed the difference in how we notice things when we are walking as opposed to driving.
We wound up with a discussion of the changes in the publishing industry.
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'Homecoming' Blog 
Thank you so much for doing this, Sue Ann. First, a few minor corrections. The poet who wrote Thomas and Beulah is Rita Dove, and the last name of ‘Freedom of Love’s author is ‘Breton.’
I believe that David Crouse’s email is dcrouse1 (at) alaska (dot) edu and Jeanne’s has two ‘r’s in bellestarrgang. Hope this helps.
I’m going to take the plunge and post some of my assignment responses. I’d love to see others’ work and give and receive feedback.
Thanks,
Ela
First, here’s a response to Peggy’s assignment:
Israel, Winter 1984
One siesta hour,
the apartment too cool,
two television-strident,
I took refuge in
in the sunbright glare
of the dusty streets.
There came toward me
a kept and collared cat,
clean, soft and ginger-white.
We paused, I petted her,
scratched under the collar.
Each drew from the other
some needed comfort –
and then walked on.
Back outside my grandmother’s,
the feral cats, skinny, mangy
and innocent of collars,
leapt and scattered from the dumpsters
at my approach
just like every other time.
Now, here’s a response to David’s assignment.
They made camp high up the beach, hauled the boat above the tideline and turned it over against night time rain. Only a slight stilling of the breeze, the hint of a chill riming the air, told that it was after 9 at night – it would be light a while yet. They made no fire, ate dry goods, spoke hardly at all: they were in bear country and this time they were hunting.
The water of the inlet lay placid and vast. Occasional boats glided by. The light refracted the mountains opposite, distorting their familiar shapes.
Although they sat easy, congenially waiting, the guns were loaded, knives sharpened, game bags readied, binoculars trained frequently on the mouth of the freshwater stream a little way down the beach, the watering hole.
Offshore, a splash was followed by a ragged cheer. 400 yards east of where they camped, a pleasureboat had anchored and spilled its kayak. Two figures staggered from the boat and into the kayak, fumbled two-ended oars and rowed tipsily to shore amid cheers, catcalls and rhythmic counting.
They exchanged glances – a hint of eye-roll. The binoculars were set aside.
Catalogue poems! Well, I ended up with several. One, I can’t post as a comment because it deliberately works in two columns, so that you can read it either vertically or horizontally. It’s a ‘Cost/Benefit’ for Staying Alive, and each ‘Con’ has a corresponding ‘Pro.’
Another, I’m writing in response to the chamber music concert on Wednesday night – I’ll post that draft in Thursday’s comments. For today, I’ll put in my slightly revised old draft about global warming – old enough that I was still in England when I wrote it!
We live the cyclical constancy of a whirlpool
and puzzle over the snatches we can see, and brood –
who’s to tell us what, or why, or how?
I have tramped the seasons, listened to their sounds,
and I have heard the voice of friend in need;
I have blessed the consummation of spring in summer,
watched my hair lighten from silt-brown to mead;
And I have walked in the gruelling of autumn,
the trudging, interminable glummery of leaves.
But I have seen almond blossom in December also,
dangerous dissemblings of a false new dawn –
I cannot walk away from the cyclic restlessness
of the whirligig earth and the scattered seasons.