sad sad bunny

So I've been working on this series of poems. 12 poems. In my head they're titled as "Ecclesiastes." So far there are eight poems written out, with pieces of the last four in my notebook and in my head.

I was supposed to workshop the eight tonight. Didn't happen. I know sometimes profs run out of time, etc., but tonight I was just tired and frustrated. I still am. (Hence this post.)

The poems are not happy poems. They are sad poems. No way around that. It's a 12-poem elegy of sorts, but I want it to break from that tradition. And it's not. At all.

I got my prof's notes. Most of them are gentle pushes, but at the end, he compares the series to Miss Havisham sitting in her wedding dress, going no where. So much for the gentle. The worst part is that he's right, and that I'm stuck in these poems. I'm numb in them.

Danny has just told me to stop thinking for tonight (or my translation of his advice is to stop thinking). I think he's right. He usually is.

Oh: Sad sad bunny is from Arthur. Just in case you were wondering.