MESSAGE FOR STRESSED PROFESSOR FROM HICK STUDENT
by Kenton Woods
I’m sorry if I wasn’t paying attention
I was probably paying more attention to how I
Should look if I was paying attention
And I was probably thinking of April deer in white laurel
Old trucks in the summertime, living in Delta Dawn
In sepia, in flugelhorn. And probably thinking about how
I don’t want to die like Dolores O’Riordan
Angel pipes gurgling; and I was probably caught between
Taking charge of the whole world’s ascent
Haggard but still hot, hotter than the morningstar
Or hanging a hat in a barroom
And letting spirits summon spirits
But I did learn – and this is very important –
That each and every tick of the clockhand grants
No less than one million chances to change everything
And that in that changing there is something alchemical
Not John Dee but John Deere
Stars in the Coke can and songs in the sunny bentgrass
Barnfields, and so I’m
Only twenty-two and you’re much older
(So I have half a mind to be your child)
But here’s something for you instead —
Please get into a warm bath tonight and
Turn on the gramophone to Norman and remember
That everything can be made infinitely whole or particular
Like Mandelbrot
That it’s never too late, that I love you like
A godmother would, or an angel,
Though I don’t dare to fly with them these days.
That with your own hands, attention, and
The ticking of the clock by the roses somewhere
You can do what you want, now
And even if that’s nothing, or making lilac bubbles
Or smiling at something or climbing Turkey Ridge
You’re doing it perfectly