Had a student in Fiction
would always declare
Whatta Buncha Crap
just about every story we read.
Somewhat demoralized, WE
eventually realized, ok: whatta
buncha crap said everything
about him, nothing about what
he was talking about.
WE began to relish the critique:
decided it was on a par with
being struck stupid: stunned
and just right for study.
“Well if this IS a buncha crap:
WE wonder why?”
we wondered.
And then WE were in business:
“school business” -- leisure
time trying to make some
sense.
What a buncha crap!
Huh? What do you mean?
Define crap for crying out loud.
& a good time was had by all.
Fundamental (from L. “fundus”
meaning among other things:
bottom line, basics, foundational. )
My liberal arts seminarians are
often self righteous, scolding each
other for slap-dash self-indulgent
expostulation, for conformity as
well as excruciating originalities,
stereotyping, generalizing
& reduction.
Imagine if I put a ban on fundamentals:
no bullshitting allowed, no mess, no
guess or butt-farming: whatta buncha
crap & I will have none of it.
Nothing allowed but clean sweet
smelling thesis-driven themes,
properly documented, coherent,
consistent, clear strawberries
forever.
Local Food.
It’s what happens when the black
plastic with cut-out holes is thrown
over the classroom (so to speak)
and all we grow are wannabe chemists,
sociologists, women’s studies majors,
literature faddists, historians, environ-
mentalists, & no longer weedy thorns
and thistles, burdock and dandelion,
golden rod, kudzu, rag weed, sorrel
& sumac,wild carrot, rag wort, curled
dock, knotweed, queen ann’s lace and
such a rich tangled bank of possibilities
allowed to grow.
IT’s like gardening in tuxedos, digging in
go-to-church itchy pants, wheel barrowing
with high heels growing loco food..
IT, I said. Do I always got to be spelling
IT out?
What does it take to get good?
xxxooo, Sam
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