Posts Tagged ‘prom’

The incoming class is already starting to filter in, their first official meeting is tonight.  The faculty is already there.  The rest of us will be filtering in as well, arriving in time for orientation just after lunch tomorrow. Time again for that thing we call “the res,” or simply “res,”

The Vermont College of Fine Arts MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults bi-annual residency!

So part of me wants to promise to keep regular updates, but I know that’s contingent on any number of factors.  Last time I managed to snag a solo room, so I was able to stay up late at night writing and blogging without worrying about keeping anyone else awake.  Single rooms are incredibly rare, but still, one can hope.

I suppose I could try and Tweet.  But that’s not what I feel like doing in the brief moments between faculty lectures and studetn lectures and all the other good stuff scheduled for the coming scant two weeks.  But all of that is still to come because, as of this moment, I am still maing lists of everything I need to do, and some last minute packing, and everything else I need to wedge into the day before a nice mellow pizza and movie night with my Suze before leaving early tomorrow morning.

It’s a little like camp, where you can’t wait to see the people you haven’t seen since the last time you were at camp.  It’s like summer camp but all the activities are indoor, because if we added outdoor activites we’d end up there for a month instead of two weeks.  It’s a summer camp with a graduation and a prom attached.  It’s a writer’s retreat, and a battery recharge, and a reunion with community, and dorms with cafeteria food.

And I am a little excited.  But not so you’d notice.

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not really a prom
(adults don’t prom)

more a dance
like a school dance

with decorations and snacks
and a dark room for dancing

not that i danced
not much at least

only a few hours
only until i stopped thinking

about what i looked like

all jangly, uncoordinated
like i did when i was fourteen

when i would only dance
when no one was home

lost to the music
eyes closed

sweaty and reeking

then (and now) slipping
out the back with the boys

out to the parking lot
grown men

talking about women
still boys

still at the dance
still hoping for something more

than awkward glances
fractured conversations

masked smiles
hidden worlds


sweaty hair freezing
into jagged points

kicking at lumps of snow
trying to decide

whether to hotbox it
before returning to the dance

to the music
the abandon

the bar
steeling our courage

with renamed cosmos
(“the cliffhanger,

one sip
and you’re over the edge”)

to the edge of the cosmos
long ago

when we took our first steps
into the ballroom

dressed in rented tuxes
dancing to a cover band

realizing we can dance
and enjoy it

and not be afraid
and not care

when our friends laughed
because we knew

we’d finally stepped out
from our own shadows

and into the world

walking back to the dorm
i stopped to listen

as new snow fell
wayward midnight flakes

the pat-a-pat against my face
a tissue breeze for the trees

the promotional exercise
getting out of my own way

stepping out from my own shadow
a different sort of dance


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