Okay, Henry, but I want a cut of the royalties.
Ron finally explains what an “ordinary poem” is. Bummer–I liked my and Stephanie’s idea better. Why did we catch it when the New Yorkers didn’t? We just listen better. Take that, East Coast!
Ron tells me I write like a tall thin person. Hmm. Any other opinions? Chime in, especially if you haven’t met me.
I am tickled that Ron Silliman previously pictured me as a glowering giant.
Right on, Chris. “Like shining from shook foil” has got to be one of the best images ever.
I am sympathizing with Catherine’s vertigo. I basically can’t sleep on my left side because if I do and sit up too fast everything spins like crazy, sometimes on and off for a few days. For some reason decongestants seem to help. One doctor told me I had “benign positional vertigo,” i.e. “you get dizzy and we have no idea…
I’ve invited everyone I can think of to the Postcard Poems reading this Sunday. You come too. Today’s the last day of my postcard exchange with Del. Day to day, the postcards let you not worry about the whole and focus on the local–whatever you can do in that space on that day. But now I find myself thinking back…
It’s going to take some getting used to actual variation in the weather again. That existential exhiliration of waking up in the morning and not knowing when you look out the window whether it will be sunny, cloudy, raining, warm or cold, maybe even having to open the door and stand outside for a second in your bare feet testing…
End of July in Palo Alto and it is raining. That is just wrong.
Hey Kasey: Did you notice that Cordite is on a zombie kick?