Graduation Blows

The internet is rife with fretting MFA applicants. “Oh god if I don’t get into Western Winston County State’s Lo Res Large Print Program I’ll just die I’ll just die.” “Response to donkeykong…I respect your position that the poetry faculty at Yuccado Tech is lot of whoring seadogs, however, I ask you consider that for many of us, that environment will nurture our Work.” I myself am guilty of a little Schadenfreude to get me through the day, plus I get to relieve a time I now remember with blinky eyes, because I got into my top program with a TA.

You notice that all us about to graduate don’t have so much to say. That’s because we’re on the return trip from a Tijuana fiestablast, hungover and rife with bacteria from Alabama frat boys . Which is not to say I wouldn’t drive South of the Border top down screaming, sling open the bar doors, down a bucket of Patron and say “Howdy Boys” all over again.

For now I’ve applied to few of the usual suspects (Stegner, Wisconsin, Colgate) but don’t expect much. I might as well toss a Frisbee in the Grand Canyon and expect to hit a pygmy hippo. This isn’t to say I don’t believe in pygmy hippos, or that I don’t desperately want one, because I do. Other believers out there? Anyone? Anyone?