RIP Dorothy Porter
I’m doing an Australian Poetry unit with Year 11s this term. Even I shirk a little at the thought of it, conjuring up stale images of bush ballads and Banjo Patterson. No. I really want to get into Dorothy Porter without having to scream, “I AM A LESBIAN” at the little darlings. Reading ‘The Monkey’s Mask’ will be too time intensive so I might just give them a little taste to wet their poetry-is-not-necessarily-lame whistle. Anyway, I have no idea how to teach poetry, really.

Poetry For Dummies
How can I teach them
Dorothy Porter?
How can I say,
‘This is how you mix art and spunk’?
But I could never use the word spunk.I don’t have the smarts for poetry
I have to use a manual.
I can barely sound out scale;
I can barely spell assonance
And the manual usually ends up in the trees.Like Porter said,
‘I get magic
but I don’t get numbers’.
All they need to do is
Learn how tospellsmell, right?
Ligaments
So I rolled my ankle and tore a ligament on Thursday night at bball. It wasn’t even a serious game, as the other team forfeited because some of their players were stuck in traffic. No ref. No scoring. Yet I go and injure myself! Insert ‘lame’ jokes here.
As a result, I’ve got myself a mattress on the loungeroom floor and a lot of marking to do. Perhaps I’ll take some more codeine and drink half a bottle of wine, whynot?
McNeil and I have SO much in common. Perhaps we’re meant to be together.

And while I’m on the lezzie theme…



Lezzie model, Catherine McNeil. YUM.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Come Not When I am Dead
To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave,
To trample round my fallen head,
And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save.
There let the wind sweep and the plover cry;
But thou, go by.
Child, if it were thine error or thy crime
I care no longer, being all unblest:
Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time,
And I desire to rest.
Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie:
Go by, go by.
With tights.
Back at school today. Luckily there weren’t any kids. I’m not sure where my passion to liberate young minds has gone but I feel only impending dread. My eyes sting like they’re made of wasps and I haven’t done anywhere near the planning I should have. This profession is about being agile, being a performer, walking tightropes and guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.
I found that Woolworths girl’s dress. Sass and Bide. Only $79.95 but was wayyyy to skin-hugging for me. I bought this instead but it’s too tight around my ribs and I think I have to take it back. Sigh.

I’m reading Fingersmith; it’s divine and it’s calling. Night night.






