Letters to Maria Coryaté: Part XI. [postmark: May 7th, 2015]


I regret the tone I took with you in my last letter.  I’m sorry.  I was hurting, Maria, and I wan’t angry at you.  I’m only writing to send you a poem this month, in case this meds change takes away this brief gift.

My greatest fear is that I’m hurting you.  If I am, I’m, again, very sorry.  If you want me to stop, now, I’ll do that.

Anyrate, I showed a Professor some of the poems I’ve been writing you.  She liked them, but then was really real with me.  She said, there are hundreds of Fine Arts writing programs, each with a couple, or so, to a dozen or two, candidates for a Masters of Fine Arts in Poetry.  There are only so many teaching positions for poetry, and the audience for published poetry is extremely slim.  She recommended I go for a Masters in Education, instead.  Then, she told me about an inscription a poet named Thomas Sayers Ellis once wrote for her in his book, RACE INC.: “Whatever you do, don’t stop.” 

Anyrate, sounds like good advice to me, I’m damn good with teenagers.  And, this way, babe, these poems will only be for you.






Deadline’s tomorrow,

still need ten pages,

yet here I am,

staring into sky,

hoping to hear your prayers.




more Letters to Maria Coryaté



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