"you're 16, and you're no e.e.cummings"

I can't remember who exactly said this-- maybe Chi? When we were in high school in response to some pretentious attempt by someone (not me) at poetry writing. It's always stuck with me. As has my love for e.e. cummings. I grew up with my dad reading me "in just" every spring. I love, LOVE, this poem Angela posted. And hey, it's valentine's.

Better Off Dead

Claire turned me on to this site. I can't stop reading it-- not sure what that means. Some of them are bitter, some sweet, bittersweet, angry, mean, funny. Love. it messes with everyone, apparently. Get ready to waste some time.
A few choice words from the site (where you can anonymously send a message to an old love):

Measurement

Even though we broke up seven years ago, I still rate the way I feel about someone new on a scale that goes from Zero to You.

Infinite

You were the first and only person I wanted to talk to when I heard about David Foster Wallace.

** this is my (emily) favorite

Varsity

I should have given you my letter jacket senior year.

R.I.P.

David Foster Wallace died last weekend. He was a great writer. I think everyone should read his first essay in Consider the Lobster. It highlights (in a very funny way) how bad and destructive the porn industry is. I am sad he is gone.