TROUBLESOME RISING DIGITAL ANTHOLOGY
The world is burning and I’m lesson planning
Lacy Snapp
picking which day I will teach students
about the function of a line, and when to break
the rules, learn enjambment, deconstruct
what others say is convention. On which day
does metaphor become reality, once coded
poetics a signal to split open the world, as Hughes
said, to find the source of the worms, the rot,
scoop it out, arm ourselves, as Hurston thought,
with a sharp oyster knife? The world is flooding
and I’m lesson planning, how many days should I allot
for classes we will cancel because of natural
disasters, how many more students will lose
their homes to elemental forces, when will I?
I won’t even make some allegory that the river,
the winds, are vengeful for all that we’ve done
and keep doing—they’re just responding
to the stage we’ve set, there’s nothing biblical
to this, but wouldn’t it be easier to assign
this moment to forces outside of our control?
The world keeps turning and I’m lesson planning
because it’s all I can control, or that’s the myth
I’m supposed to believe—that all of this
will keep happening, and we’re just along
for the ride. Strap in. Hang on. The world keeps
turning and I’m lesson planning and, yes,
it’s burning, and yes, it will keep coming, and
yes, I’m sure it will all get worse before it gets
better, so maybe here is where I build
into the schedule the volta, because can
workshopping a poem be the scaffolding
for changing the world? We ask, what do we like here,
what is working, what could we do differently,
do better? Revision, revision, re-envision,
don’t get too attached to this draft:
remember we all hold an eraser, the pen.
Lacy Snapp is a poet, professor, and woodworking artist in East Tennessee where they plan university and community-based literary events. They serve as Poetry Co-Editor of Appalachian Places, a board member of the Johnson City Poets Collective, and a co-editor of The Southern Poetry Anthology, Volume VI: Tennessee, second edition. https://www.lacysnapp.com/
