Year-Ending Meme

Once again, I like this one because it reflects on the way I think. Looking at my blog's archives, the following are the first and last sentence of every month this past year. With the reasonable exception of the last sentence of December.

January
First: My obsession with Sufjan Stevens' "Casimir Pulaski Day" at long last led me to acquire his Michigan and Illinois albums.
Last: And if that doesn't explain it, well, I just don't know what does.

February
First: Before reading this post, please read the post that spawned it, "Embellishment and Lies in the writing of James Frey," on Blue Skies Falling.
Last: The next two are coming in the next five days.

March
First: Today's installment regards Good Night, and Good Luck.
Last: Let's not just assume and honor the idea of the primal woman, who acts only on instinct rather than thought, and feels naught but simple emotions that she can create with her cunt and nurture with her hands.

April
First: Well.
Last: I can't imagine that no idea similar to this has ever been proposed, but nevertheless I think it brilliant, and think there might be some pretty fascinating legal ways to approach it and work it.

May
First: I've reneged on my own commitment to my blog, posting less than four times last month, for a number of reasons that (for me) are explanations and not excuses.
Last: Yet that things go round and again go round/Has rather a classical sound. [Wallace Stevens]

June
First: I should add here that I will respond to the comments on "Alfalsism," I promise; I've been opening a show this week so things are a little crazy.
Last: It can be important/To have waited at least a minute to see what was already there. [Kenneth Koch]

July
First: Regarding Tyromaven's comment on Tell Us About Real, I was just looking over an old favorite book of mine and found this amazing last few lines, which I think embody exactly what she was talking about and what I need to think about.
Last: i know /but that's why mankind /alone among the animals /learns to cry [Nikki Giovanni]

August
First: About two years ago, I finished Russell Banks's Continental Drift.
Last: I'm glad I exist. [Wendy Cope]

September
First: This post isn't about any of the things I said I'd write about before the end of August.
Last: There's not a Micrococcus in the Garden where they play:/They bathe in pure iodoform a dozen times a day,/And each imbibes his Rations from a Hygienic Cup,/The Bunny and the Baby and the Prophylactic Pup. [Arthur Guiterman]

October
First: Oh sweet jeebus, I no longer know what to say.
Last: shit he says/i hate poems about/poetry [Robert Hershon]

November
First: I haven't been down with the blogging so much lately, due to a combination of too much theater and just not feeling like it.
Last: I love all sixteen of you.

December
First: The Arabs used to say,/When a stranger appears at your door,/feed him for three days/before asking who he is,/where he's come from,/where he's headed. [Naomi Shihab Nye]