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Tuesday, January 02, 2007

New Year Bits

I had a strange dream about a poet last night. I dreamt I was tickling Tony Hoagland's feet with a blue feather. He was nude. And he was holding an iced tea in his right hand. He kept asking if he could place his drink on my shoulder.
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Happy New Year! Wait, that was yesterday. Never mind.
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I have no resolutions this year. I never keep them. I resolved a couple years ago to learn to play poker. I never did. Last year I promised myself to finish my collection and send it out. Didn't happen.
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Saddam wrote poetry and fed birds
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Shit list item: Old classmates who email once, but then you never hear from them again. Rude! I'm talking to you, Alison. I'm talking to you, Reed.
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