Sure. This Looks Legit.

While my poor little pup is all curled up next to me on one of his four beds, recovering from a very traumatic week...


I am regressing back to my undergrad days: Listening to Bob Dylan, drinking cold coffee on a Sunday night and avoiding my homework by any and all means possible. Yep, you read that right, homework.

As I type, I'm working on a Master of Fine Arts degree in poetry via the low-residency program at Ashland University. No, it's not like the University of Phoenix. It's a for-serious university with a legit campus, whose MFA program is designed for people with lives outside of school. But this isn't an infomercial for higher education (I'm not Suzanne Summers and it's unlikely that this blog will give you tighter buns and thighs. Unlikely, not impossible).

Right now, I should be finishing the last of five poems that are due tomorrow. Instead, I'm looking up old YouTube videos of Bob Dylan/Joan Baez duets. I wanted to watch a movie (like Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind or Edward Scissorhands or another in my collection of films that feature a sad, strange male protagonist who meets a cute, quirky girl with ridiculous hair, and an improbable romance blooms. The recipe is obvious, I know, but it's like chocolate chip cookies: The cookie-to-dough ratio is predictable for the most part, and you're not at all surprised when they're good, but they're still good.) I digress...

So I wanted to watch a movie... but I think at some point late last night my professor must have broken into my house, sabotaged my old DVD player, took the last cold Vitamin Water from the fridge and stole away into the night. There's really no other logical explanation.

What my professor failed to account for was the depth of my procrastination. Can't watch a movie? Minor setback. No cold Vitamin Water? That's just going to make it worse.

So I've moved on to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young -- and a Tofutti Cutie (38 grams of dairy-free frozen chocolate goodness), which is like vegan crack. Upon further reflection, I guess regular crack is technically vegan. However, I advocate Tofutti Cuties. Not crack.

I had a point...ah yes. Poetry.
Whenever I'm working on my poems, at least 15% of the writing process on average is spent selecting the proper inspiration music.

I think that's why I'm struggling like the U.S. gymnastics team at the Beijing Olympics (what? too soon?). I just can't find my proverbial footing in my iTunes library tonight and the right music is key to being able to write the right poems.

Music is what first inspired me to start writing, and it's been an essential element in the equation ever since. I started off with horrible, horrible song lyrics when I was in grade school (seriously, if I let you read them, you'd pray to be stricken illiterate.) So after the aural onslaught that were my song lyrics, I moved on to short stories, fiction and finally found my niche in poetry.

And here I am now, cold coffee and all, waiting for inspiration to strike. But if you're waiting for lighting to strike you on its own, you could be waiting awhile. So maybe I should just get on with it and tie a key to a kite, B Franklin style...

Oh my god. That rhymed. I need to stop before someone gets hurt.