Noel Sloboda, PhD
Instructor of English
Penn State York
Email:  njs16@psu.edu

Nosebleed in the Milton Seminar: Memories of John Morris

...over Beast, Fish, Fowl
Dominion absolute; that right we hold
By his donation; but Man over men
He made not Lord...

Cancer must have already been working

inside him when the nosebleed came.
 
That morning we were immersed

in the eighth book of Paradise Lost.  On

he read.  Some snickered, yet most sat

silent, those of us devoted to him attentive

but not knowing how to respond.  Still

he read as blood ran down his cheek,

spotting his collar.  Was this a trial, part

of the second semester of graduate school,

designed to test our fortitude?  A lesson

on the dedication needed to study Milton?
 
Or the real world creeping uninvited

into the classroom?  I did not know

then he was a self-professed little poet,

I doubt it would have mattered,

made his blood redder,  grace greater,

more impressive in that performance

near the end.  Finally, we all just looked

away, listened as he read about the naming

of animals before the fall of man.

Slow Learner

“Don’t smile,” commands Eliza,

“or he’ll think you’re baring

teeth, getting ready to bite.”
 
Doubting my grasp, she adds:
 
“Doggy brain.”  I ask,

“Who is training whom?”

Giving the orange lead a tug, I

assert my superiority.  The dog

complies, inching closer,

submissive, head hung low, eyes

askance, ears slanting. Unimpressed,

Eliza holds fast,

no direction for me

in her expression.  By dictate of

training--for which I’ve paid

generously--I begin again,

like so many times before.
 
Certain not to smile, I

turn for help, to the dog at my feet.

Seemingly indifferent, he gnaws

grime entrenched between

pads--snap, clack, begin

again--perhaps code,
 
to assure me that this

adjustment is natural: he’s done it,

suspending his canine life,

now and again, for humankind.
 
Really, then, I ought not to

complain. It’ll be okay.
 
Upward he gazes, tail wagging,

nose wriggling;  I

glimpse the intimation of a smile.  I

think.  Unsure, I

step back.  The dog senses

change; the lead

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