Monday, March 28, 2005

Betcha By Golly Wow

This is strange. Today I went to put my bills in the mailbox, and when I did so I noticed a sheaf of notebook papers with poems printed in cramped handwriting The paper looks as though it has been rained on, or at least left out for a few days, and the poems are numbered--there are seventeen of them, with titles like "Jealousy," Good God My Bod," and "Think About You All the Time." The lyrics sound about as you'd expect--here's a quote from "Fatal Attraction"

Fatal attraction turns my hormones/hommies (can't read word) into full throttle
Your body makes me wanna holla like a baby fo a bottle
and so on.

This is disturbing for a few reasons. One, there could be some stalker kid/student out there shoving poems into my mailbox. Two, this stalker type knows where I live. Three, and this to me is the worst case scenario--these poems fell out of some kid's notebook into the street, and some neighbor who somehow remembers that I am a poet, "returned" the work to me, which would mean that they think I write poems like this.

How else could this have wound up in my mailbox? B. says I've been outed by the mailman, who was able to figure out I am a poet by all of the manuscript envelopes back and forth. Now he wants me to critique his work.

OK--off to close my blinds.