Monday, April 12, 2010

Such Sweet Sorrow

Over the past week I've gotten angrier about the "read your email or else" commuter campus job. This morning, although it's much more interesting to come up with new ways to explore the relationship between Othello and Desdemona for tomorrow's class, it's clear to me that working on that is pretty much only for my own enjoyment, and if I was smart I'd be turning to the piles of administrative details that need attention for my other part-time job, at my local college campus.

I am in the mood to recite this poem, Such Sweet Sorrow, by Ethan Coen:

If there were times
I slighted you
I'm sorry now
There weren't more.

So many times
I fought with you
But, sadly, never
Broke your jaw.

Some days, I know,
I failed to show
You what you meant to me,

However it
Is hard to hit
That hard that frequently.

I wanted wine and roses and
You gave me marcs and thorns,
And also marks of black and blue
and shiny cuckold's horns.

I do regret
The way I let
You always get my goat,,

But don't repent
The time I spent
With hands wrapped round your throat.

I would have loved your laughter
Were it not at my expense,
And hope you will hereafter
Be amused by hell's torments.

So should we meet
Upon the street
You should know why, instead

Of hailing you
With love, I do
So with a hail of lead.

Yes, so satisfying. I do realize that I need to cool off before I make any kind of final move. I could probably still get a class or two here and there, go on with the kind of commuting life I've had, but my pride doesn't want to let me. If they don't appreciate what all I've done for them, let them try to go on without me.

But I won't say that. Yet. Today I'm just going to enjoy the Shakespearean quotation of the poem's title and wallow in the deadly sin of wrath.


Lass said...

HAAAAAAAAAAAA! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you for that poem.

kittiesx3 said...

Preach it, sister. I say you are experiencing righteous anger--that's not one of the deadly sins at all.

Harriet said...

Is this the same Ethan Coen who makes movies? Love it.

Betty (Beth) said...

What a wonderful poem, and I can already think of a few people it applies to! ;-)

Hope you enjoy relishing your wrathfulness today!

FreshHell said...

Wow, that is awesome. I wish I'd written that. I might have to have it tattooed on my chest. Except that I'm afraid of needles. Hmm.

Well, I certainly understand your righteous, indignant anger esp since all kinds of flukey things can happen to email correspondence and nobody bothered to call you and confirm, one way or another, that YES you want a job. Jesus. This (imaginary) beer is for you!

Anonymous said...

Ooooh. It's perfect.

(And get the classes. They're asses, but that's academia for you.)

Nymeth said...

I'm so going to save that poem to read when I'm angry at someone!

And your wrath is more than justified.

Jeanne said...

Lass, glad you enjoyed it!

Elizabeth, thanks for the support!!

Harriet, yes, the very same.

Betty, I did enjoy it thoroughly.

FreshHell, thanks for the beer. It transmigrated into wine by the time it got here, which was convenient since beer gives me migraines. (Sorry; it's my only fault!)

ReadersGuide, you're probably right except that I've been considering giving up the commute anyway.

Nymeth, thanks for your support! I hope you don't need this poem anytime soon. When you do, though, the expectations set up by the first stanza are so satisfyingly dashed!

Magpie said...

That's one great poem.