I’m reading final exams from the
American Literature class (under-
graduates writing). How that works,
so late in the summer, I could
explain if you wanted to know.
Some sound like final-exam-ese.
You know that sound, I’m sure.
Maybe you love it.
I doubt it.
Others: conversational, epistolary,
like letters to family and friends.
Breaking a rack--billiards all over
the table, helter-skelter but related,
know what I mean? Kin. Unscripted.
Alive.
My roommate in college could write
wonderful letters to girls. Rambling,
free associative, whimsical,
entertaining.
I asked how he did it so good.
Said he didn’t know.
I think now I could, despite advanced
degrees from fully accredited institutions.
I may have figured it out.
There’s 2 economies.
Always in play, of course.
But I can’t serve both. Got to
choose one as my magistery.
Let it be Boss.
xxxooo, Sam
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