Wake: Up to Poetry
"The act of poetry is a rebel act."
My Literary Shelter
Walking to work today in the pouring rain, I saw the Press for what it represents in my life: a shelter. Running inside soaked and mentally exhausted from a day of classes, I was happy to be in a room where the AC isn’t cranked too high and the assignments aren’t too debilitating. The homeliness of the Press is amplified in stormy weather, where we appreciate the cozy closeness of our intern’s corner and the protective presence of our poetry books. If the campus was to flood or a hurricane was to approach, there is nowhere I’d rather be in lock-down in than in the Press. The company and the literature would certainly keep me entertained for days. Hours filled with reading Longley and McGuckian would be a welcome break from classes, and I could never turn down bonding time with my fellow interns and Candide. I am lucky enough to work here a few hours a week, I can only dream of rising waters prolonging my stay.
It’s good to be back.