Tuesday, 8 April 2003

i’ve been get­ting emails from the class i dropped lately. ap­par­ently, the group i had signed up to do a pre­sen­ta­tion with at the be­gin­ning of the year had not re­al­ized i dropped the class over a month ago. i’ve been rev­el­ing in their email strug­gles to set up a time to meet with my pro­fes­sor. to­day how­ever, my sadis­tic voyeurism ended. the prof fi­nally re­al­ized that i was on the email list and was no longer in the class, thereby in­form­ing the rest of the group that “Adam Harvey is no longer a part of the class.” i could sense the venom in those words, es­pe­cially since she sent the email to me as well. poor crap­tas­tic ex-teacher of mine.

in other news, i’m so tired of read­ing po­ems about rape in my po­etry class that i am go­ing to fight back. Now, the very fact that each week there is at least one poem a week writ­ten by a girl about sex­ual as­sault or rape or the in­va­sive, vi­o­lent as­pects of sex, points to a va­ri­ety of prob­lems. first, that things like this oc­cur on a scale such as this, sec­ond, that even if said writ­ers have not been raped, they still feel that they must write about it con­stantly. third, that i have yet to see a poem that is con­struc­tive or feels even slightly en­joy­able to­ward the sex­ual act. And fourth, that the po­ems i’ve been read­ing about rape are so un­con­struc­tive and have be­come so stale that i feel that i must write a poem from the stand­point of a rapist. at first my friend Kate sug­gested i write a poem as if i’d been raped. i im­me­di­ately changed it to be­ing a rapist. its quite more con­fronta­tional and i think i can chan­nel my ex­as­per­a­tion af­ter 13 weeks of rape po­ems quite nicely. what is my po­etry class com­ing to? jee­bus.