Ask the grumpies: How do you feel about poetry?

Leah asks:

How do you feel about poetry?

#1:  I am a big fan of doggerel.  Also patter.

#2:  I have no particular feelings about poetry. I’m not into it, myself…  I just… don’t really care about poetry.

#1:  Though you do know some of the more famous poems, at least enough to have written this lovely apology to Jenny Joseph .  And this link love of yours from 2014 was super impressive.  I have no doubt you will someday do your own take on This is Just to Say if you haven’t already.  Even though you’re not on twitter.

#2 says, YOU wrote all those things!!!

#1 I would have remembered writing when I am an old tenured woman.  I have never had any desire to dye my hair purple!  Or any color (other than getting highlights at the Vidal Sassoon school as a favor to a stranger in graduate school).

How do you feel about poetry, grumplings?

‘Twas the Link Love before Christmas…

… and all through the blog, links were stirring… something something, eggnog… hmm.

The cuttlefish were snoozing all snug beneath sea…
And Obama took questions from women only.

This link is true and I like it a lot
Please don’t give money in the shiny red pot.

Ayn in her mischief and I in my cap
had just settled our blog for a long winter’s nap
When out on the net there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

On rapey, on diets, on hypocrite ho!
On saving for retirement, as these people know.
To the top of the world, to the top of the mall,
now dash away, dash away, dash away all.

As grading time that before the wild holiday flies
when they meet with an obstacle mount to the skies
so up to the savings, my dollars they flew
in hopes that this blog post would amuse you.

Sorry…?  You can hear me exclaim, as I dive out of sight:

happy Festivus to all, and to all a good night.

When I am an old tenured woman

When I am an old tenured woman I shall dye my hair purple
With a green streak which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my income on books and high-heeled boots
And horseback riding lessons, and say we’ve no time for meetings.

I shall show videos in the classroom when I’m tired
And drink in public and say what I mean
And tell students what I think of their attitude
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall wear sweatpants to the grocery store again
And pick the most interesting research projects
And give the grades that are earned.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And speak about whatever issues are important
Or give the President a book to read that’s not about online edutainment
And hoard pens and plane tickets and writing time and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not be too feminist
And set a good example for the students.
We must not argue with the dean or the chair.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am tenured, and have purple hair.

(with many apologies to Jenny Joseph)

#1: I think when I get tenure we should call the blog Grumpy Rumblings of the (formerly un-)Tenured

#2: When you get tenure you can change the name to whatever you want.

#1:  Spring Break is gonna be Epic.  My shit gonna ALL hang loose.

Ode to coffee

Oh coffee, sweet coffee
You are my wonder drug
You kick me awake
With a gentle slug.

You make headaches go away
You keep aches and pains at bay
You’re a great substitute for a nap
You make me feel better when I’m feeling like crap.

Oh coffee, sweet coffee,
For you, a glorious benediction
If only I didn’t feel so awful
Trying to wean myself from your addiction.

Note:  #2 again denies any responsibility for this.