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2006-03-16, 3:37 p.m.:
Which is better, to live in nature with no view of it, or to live in the city, looking at nature? 0 comments
2006-03-14, 9:14 p.m.:
Last weekend was Dead Guy Days here in our humble town (the Blue Ball was dull though the salsa band sort of rocked ... if, er, that turn of phrase is not too spooneresque). Our latest town preacher marquee made sure to reference the thing:
Come celebrate! the Live Risen Guy!
And it snowed and snowed and snowed. And coffin races were held as usual (though I didn't see them) and crazies jumped into a truly frozen pond for charity (last year it was balmy, and I hear they didn't even need to crack open the top so people could take the plunge). Also last year: The Belgian film crew was here and, as everyone knows, a Belgian film crew makes most everything much more festive. 0 comments
2006-03-08, 3:26 p.m.:
Needless to say, I'm not at AWP. Never been to Austin. Been to Houston. Not going back there. I'm reading. Vintage Carolyn Forche (The Country Between Us), and now also The Blue Dress. Sharon Olds, The Gold Cell. Re-reading Naomi Shihab Nye, Hugging the Jukebox. Reading poets Lorna Dee suggested: Equi, Crow. I'm reading things from start to finish, no skipping, no dancing around, for once. I am trying to see what makes a book. I'm looking at lines - well, first I'm ignoring them - then I'm looking closely, almost too closely, almost pausing with each one, then I'm ignoring again. I'm regarding them. In my own poems, I'm changing lines, changing back. I'm wallowing in the long line, then toying with the short line, then glorying in the long lonnng line again. In short, I'm not sure what the hell I'm doing. It doesn't feel as bad as it sounds. I'm trying to watch 8 ER's in a row, while Att sleeps. I've been saving them since November or so. Don't know why I have to watch them, but I do. I read Dan Albergotti's chapbook, Charon's Manifest, of which "Notes for a Poem in Which God Does Not Appear" blew off the top of my head and, following immediately thereafter, "Poem in Which God Does Not Appear" did it again, did it more. I've been reading other things which elude mention as they are in the garage, as is seemingly my mind. After a January of prodigious poem output - the so-called 'technicolor vomit' every day - I had a February (first I wrote Tuesday) of next to nothing. No writing. The thoughts in my head were buried under the pack snow in our yard, our permafrost in the shade under the firs. Now it's March and ... I don't know. it was 75 degrees yesterday and today it's snowing. Snowing hard. 1 comments
2006-03-04, 10:13 a.m.:
Town Preacher Marquee Dept. (snow February, snow March):
Gossip is like a balloon. The more you puff, the bigger it grows. 1 comments
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