My professor said I should give up poetry and think about writing a memoir instead. Said since I liked thinking about ideas, muling them in my head, they work better in prose. I don't disagree. Is this the start of a memoir? I am writing on my phone on the bus and I'm only 23 and 23 is too young for memoirs. Dublin makes me feel ridiculously young, like I have lost the age I used to feel in my bones back home.
I ask myself why he accepted my application for this very exclusive poetry workshop at all if he didn't like my work. Esteemed Irish poet Harry Clifton. I know the answer immediately. Same as why I get anywhere these days - diversity points for the class. An alternative knowledge system. Obtrusive questions. The thing is back home I didn't get around much, to be honest, but if I did get in I did because I was good, not because of where I come from. But that makes me sound ungrateful and misrepresents everything. Professor Harry - my mouth still hasn't got around the syllables of calling him just Harry like my classmates - Professor Harry is kind to me always, and kindness is something I treasure. Keep in a photograph. Memories of Dublin.
