  What a long weekend. But it ended with something good! I finally got my poetry portfolio back, and the results were very pleasing.
I got an 'A'--46.5 out of 50, ohhh yeah! AND, the professor said (I quote): "Your lovely taste for description drew the poems into the world of language from that other world we all live in...your elephant poem was surprising in its deft manipulation. There were so many excellent poems here, it's hard to choose...I hope you'll consider further workshops and perhaps graduate school. " WOO-HOO!! This man is one of the most hated and feared poetry critics in the US, a poet himself.
High praise, indeed!! It's nice to be rewarded for working my ass off. :) And now, I will treat you all to one of my best (according to my professor)--oh, and this one's for Ahmed, who never believed my poetry amounted to anything much. Blame Jesus When you asked me to marry you, I could tell by your eyes you didn't really want me to say yes. You handed me a second-rate ring and I said yes-- unsure why agreed to spend my life with you. We kissed and I closed my eyes, wanting to forget all the wasted guile in the blue bedroom of finite pleasures-- and that I ever found you attractive.
I often asked if you found me attractive, needing to be sure you were properly beguiled, that I was your only pleasure. Next year, you won't be there to get drunk and ruin my birthday. I don't want your second-rate ring or your new-found devotion to Jesus. If you need to blame somebody, blame Jesus-- and I hope you remember me next time you're drunk and wondering why your life is so second-rate. 
