{"id":1690,"date":"2012-07-18T20:36:02","date_gmt":"2012-07-18T20:36:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1690"},"modified":"2012-07-19T02:29:30","modified_gmt":"2012-07-19T02:29:30","slug":"al-ortolani-712","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/al-ortolani-712\/","title":{"rendered":"Al Ortolani, 7\/12"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Dear Badass,<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>On the field trip to Cold<\/p>\n<p>Harbor, classmates loved<\/p>\n<p>how you slipped away<\/p>\n<p>from old lady Murphy\u2019s<\/p>\n<p>field trip. You rowed<\/p>\n<p>the stolen boat out to<\/p>\n<p>the sandbar, skulled<\/p>\n<p>to the whale\u2019s eye,<\/p>\n<p>then, with oars locked, you<\/p>\n<p>posed as if fishing,<\/p>\n<p>catching the great joke<\/p>\n<p>of the semester. The boat<\/p>\n<p>rocked in the beached<\/p>\n<p>humpback\u2019s<\/p>\n<p>wake, a dying<\/p>\n<p>flotsam in the ebbing<\/p>\n<p>of the bay. Each time<\/p>\n<p>the tail crashed, the boat<\/p>\n<p>spun. You grabbed the<\/p>\n<p>gunnels, belly laughing<\/p>\n<p>like nothing mattered.<\/p>\n<p>Sincerely, Un-<\/p>\n<p>Convinced<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>Al Ortolani is a teacher from Kansas. His writing has appeared in a number of periodicals, across the United States:\u00a0New Letters, New York Quarterly, The English Journal, The Midwest Quarterly\u00a0and others. He has three books of poetry,\u00a0The Last Hippie of Camp 50 and\u00a0Finding the Edge,\u00a0published by Woodley Press at Washburn University, and\u00a0Wren&#8217;s House, recently released from Coal City Review Press in Lawrence, Kansas. He is active with the Kansas City Writer\u2019s Place and an editor with\u00a0The Little Balkans Review.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Dear Badass, &nbsp; On the field trip to Cold Harbor, classmates loved how you slipped away from old lady Murphy\u2019s field trip. You rowed the stolen boat out to the sandbar, skulled to the whale\u2019s eye, then, with oars locked, you posed as if fishing, catching the great joke of the semester. The boat rocked [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1690","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v24.2 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Al Ortolani, 7\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/al-ortolani-712\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Al Ortolani, 7\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Dear Badass, &nbsp; On the field trip to Cold Harbor, classmates loved how you slipped away from old lady Murphy\u2019s field trip. 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You rowed the stolen boat out to the sandbar, skulled to the whale\u2019s eye, then, with oars locked, you posed as if fishing, catching the great joke of the semester. 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