I Can't Believe I Haven't Blogged About X, Day 4: My Villanelle
The first image result from the search term "writer's block."
I used to write poetry. I haven't in years, but some of it was pretty good. Even after I switched my major from English to Linguistics, I took all the poetry classes I could weasel my way into.
SEEMINGLY UNRELATED TANGENT!
The summer I was 20, I was crazy in love with this 29-turning-30 dude in my ward/condo complex named ... for privacy's sake, let's call him Dan Blatt. He looked like a potato and was severely mentally ill, but I liked him because he was "interesting." Terrible idea. But let's not waste time revisiting my bad taste in men.
Anyway, that Fall semester, I enrolled in my first poetry class, which I was really excited about. Our professor was a really quirky cowboy-type guy who insisted we could only write form poetry--"No free verse until you've earned it!" Our first assignment was to write a villanelle, and we had almost three weeks to do it.
I kept trying to write love poems to the aforementioned boy, but nothing came. A fortnight passed and I started to get really, really frustrated, and even doubted that I had any future as a writer at all.
Then, on September 11th, he dumped me. I came home from eating ice cream with my best friend and this poem came pouring out of me, just like butter. Go figure.
Until now, the only people who have seen this poem are my 319 class (which was like ten people), Cori and Brooke.
Ode to Dan Blatt (September 11, 2005)
"You won't be needing THIS."
Dan Blatt, I hate your stinking guts. How could you be this cruel to me? Dan, you are such a freaking putz.
It's not like I'm one of your sluts! I know there's nothing wrong with me ... Dan Blatt, I hate your stupid guts.
Your apartment stinks like cold cuts. I wouldn't stay if you paid me. Dan, you are such a filthy putz.
To think I liked you, I must be nuts. I'm taking back my heart's key. Dan Blatt, I hate your lying guts.
To think that I was such a klutz to love the way you called me "E." Dan, you are such a two-faced putz.
Before I kick you in the nuts I have something to tell you--see, Dan Blatt, I hate your stinking guts. You are such a big fat freaking putz.