Friday, January 16, 2009

"I don't think you're an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you."

Sometimes

every once in a while

I walk into my den

and look at the books on my bookshelf

and see ones like

Junk English

A Handbook to Literature

Writing Creative Nonfiction

An Introduction to Grammar

Introduction to Rhetoric

Identity Matters: Rhetorics of Difference

and way too many Norton Anthologies

and I feel much like

I just rediscovered a cozy, comfortable room

I had forgotten existed and I

sit myself down in the big, overstuffed armchair

put my feet up on the fluffy, colorful ottoman

sitting afore the low, crackling fire

and I just breathe:
in
and
out

There's something safe

about the rules of grammar

about the freedom and whimsy of rhetoric

about the writings of Romantics, Beats, and Post-modernists

all safely tucked away

waiting for me

in those pages

on those shelves.

And I'm convinced if I could fit

my arms around all these

copious, ponderous tomes

I would wrap them up in my arms

and hug them

simply because they exist

and wait patiently there

just for me.

[Title quote is from "Bridget Jones' Diary"]

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