Marie Gauthier

• Kelli, January, and others have fuller line-ups of participating confessors, so travel yonder for directions. I’m so far behind I’m still mired in September.
• My bottom’s still broken, but the pain is becoming more manageable/tolerable; also, my husband took a buzz saw to the stairs — the top stair hung over the second by a good three inches, hastening any missteps — it was quite satisfying, I confess.
• I never used the word “bottom” until I had kids. I remember the childbirth class instructor saying “bottom” at least 10 times per class, and it amused me endlessly. But,without going too deeply into it, using “bottom” averts numerous scatalogical references. It works.
• Between Collected Poets work & Tupelo work & my broken bottom, I’ve written not a single poem since August. However, I sent my MS to one contest, plan on sending to one more, I’m awaiting word on many submissions, and Cave Wall accepted two poems for next year. Not too shabby.
• Elisa Gabbert has a post up about top pop songs, and I confess that I adore this sort of thing. Maybe it’s because I’m a child of the 80’s — a dreadful decade for fashion, but arguably the best for pop music. Some perched high on my echelon:
  • A-ha — I actually love the entire cassette that features “Take on Me”  — “The Sun Always Shines on TV” is clever! I need to find this on CD.
  • OMD — “If You Leave” — what teenager doesn’t have this on her personal soundtrack? Don’t tell me, I don’t believe you.
  • The Cure — “Just Like Heaven” — this song makes me want to twirl around and around really fast. It just does.
  • Martika — “Toy Soldiers” — remember Kids Incorporated? Forget Fergie, I loved Martika.
  • Pat Benatar — “Wide Awake in Dreamland”, not as well-known but just as pop-worthy, is my favorite of her albums. She was my first concert; I was 16, only about 6 rows from the stage, and it was a pretty small venue. Spoiled me for life, I can’t stand a stadium-style show — I crave the intimate.
  • Heart — “Alone” — Elisa already has this on her list, but pining was my adolescent art, and “Alone” is the paragon of pining songs.

I haven’t even come close to a partial accompaniment to Elisa’s partial list, but hey, it’s a start. There are wicked big gaps here. Add to it. Confess, c’mon, you know you want to.