Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Scissors, Paper, Stoned

Sitting on the floor in a half-lotus position impossible when sober, guitar in lap. A faculty-student party, so I am surprised to be handed a joint.

A shared high, grad students smokily aware of our theses waiting on our desks, some neatly ordered and half started, some only loose papers thrown about in piles.

I sing in a reedy voice. Everyone smiles.

I remember this when sitting in the chair for my oral defense, legs scissored, paper ready, fearing I'll be stoned.

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