It's been pointed out that AWP NYC happens to make February 3rd a necessary travel day to return to Illinois. However, the Superbowl is on February 3rd. Now, I'm sure the people over at AWP didn't intend for this conflict, and what percent of the people at AWP will also be football fans (More than anyone expects, I'd wager), but we've got a small problem now.
As I'll be damned if I'm missing the game, and scolded if I bail on AWP, there is a decision to be made: Do I make sure I'm on an early flight to watch the game here in IL, or do we make plans to fly out of JFK on Monday and watch the game with dad?
Jets could make it this year, by the by (and if this Michael Vick business sticks, they'll win their pre-season opener in a few weeks).
Yeah. This blog is all about that little spot where poetry, cars, typewriters, literary journals, artists and Football all come together. Cozy, no?
Here you go:
Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry, Ohio
James Wright
In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.
All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like starved pullets,
Dying for love.
Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other's bodies.
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