March 29: Visit From Dex

I wrote about my encounter with Dex on Tuesday.  He was the grad student who asked me to look over a poem he had written, give him some advice on it.  You may also remember how geeked I was about the fact that I was being treated like a "regular" poetry professor, given the kind of respect accorded to the full-time, I-don't-have-anything-else-to-do-with-my-life poetry professors.

Well, during my office hours yesterday, Dex showed up with another poem for me to look at, and he listened to what I had to say, even took some notes.  He kept on thanking me, nodding like I was imparting some kind of mysterious knowledge.  I think he even called me "brilliant" a couple of times.  In short, he really got on my good side.  And I felt great about myself when we were done.

My sessions with Dex these last couple of days have really made a difference in my confidence as a writer and teacher.  If anybody would have asked me last week whether I could teach a graduate-level poetry workshop, I don't think my answer would have been very enthusiastic.  Today, if somebody asked me the same question, my answer would be, "Fuck, yeah."  That's grad student speak for "I am most certainly qualified."

Saint Marty is brilliant.  Saint Marty is incisive.  Saint Marty is riding high.  Fuck, yeah.

I am a good poetry teacher.  I am...