About

The summer has ended and work returns. I figured I’d write a more in-depth “About” section to start off what will undoubtedly be a reduction in production. Ya see, I teach. Speaking specifically, I teach various sciences to college students. Speaking more specifically, I shake my head and sigh a lot. Born and raised in the Bronx, I’ve lived in a straight line in this city and came right back.

I write, mostly poetry and short fiction. I write for a couple of reasons. For one, it’s all I’ve ever done. I was never very good as the visual arts. Once, in the third grade, I drew what I believed the the most realistic rendition of a wolf to ever grace beige construction paper. Then the kid next to me splattered black paint onto it. So I threw paint in his face and pushed him off the chair, starting a lifelong problem with conflict resolution. Looking back, I probably didn’t need to throw paint in his face. The splatter was more a stray dot. And my wolf looked like a misshapen hell beast. But it’s the tiny chips in stone that shape the statue. Did I just make that phrase up? I think I did.

Back to writing. I can’t help but write. A lot of people say that “I’d die if I couldn’t write” hackneyed, false romantic dribble. Let me make it clear: if the options were to put down the pen (or for a modern twist, unplug the keyboard) or take a slug to the spine, I’m pulling a Rimbaud before you can say Une Saison en Enfer. No lack of dedication, I just don’t need a pen to create things. Give me a bottle of 18 year old single malt, an empty field and a star-filled sky and I’ll be spewing verse like a bard of old. Loopholes make the world go round. Truth be told, I love the English language. I love to play with words and sounds. I love etymology (especially of slang). I loathe the use of Latin pluralization on words Greek origin (yeah, I’m one of those guys). I am lactose intolerant. That last part had nothing to do with English, but is a fun fact.

My system thus far for this blog has been to post (mostly) daily poems for the entire month, wipe the archives at the dawn of a new month and once again post (mostly) daily poems. Sort of a ‘lather, rinse, repeat’. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting this semester, so the rinses might be spaced out a bit. Or could even be completely random. We’ll all have to wait to find out.

I’m off to work on my syllabuses right now. Thanks for stopping by.

–
Michael Rivera
“The River Man”