NYC Pics

red-eye bits

it's snowing! in nyc. the city is getting inches and inches. i hope my red-eye flight isn't delayed.
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i'm all packed. i'm so glad i bought some winter boots. i'm going to be walking through rain, slush and snow this weekend.
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cynthia cruz: I love the idea of doubling, how it creates a refrain, an Other, but also how doubling works as erasure.
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yesterday was my last day at work. i'm going to miss my co-workers. what a sweet bunch of folks.
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c. dale young: I believed, falsely, when I finished graduate school that I knew a lot about poetry and the making of poetry.
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i'm not a singer, but i sing.
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bits (and bits!)

5 days and counting!
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When Art Dallied With Poetry on 53rd Street
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I will be in NYC this Friday. It will be my first time in the city during the winter season. I'm afraid that I won't be able to walk around as much. That's my favorite part!
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Nathaniel Perry has won the APR/Honickman First Book Prize! Congrats, Mr. Perry.
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My winter boots arrive tomorrow. I ordered them off Zappo.com. They better fit.
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I'm not going to buy many things while I'm in the city. I just a need a few things to take to the MacDowell Colony. Like: fancy soaps, good tea, body spray.
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Yes, I did send my ms to the APR/Honickman contest. For a few minutes I started freaking out that I didn't win. Ha. Sad, no? But then I set aside those feelings and began work on a new poem.
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I'm going to vist this store Friday!

4 bits

10 days and counting!
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i bought some waterproof boots the other day at a sporting goods store. black, bulky, on sale. i returned them today. i just couldn't imagine walking around nyc in them. way too bulky. a few minutes ago i bought some cool, slip-on waterproof boots online. i spent more money than i wanted, but these boots look good. and they're not bulky!
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sandy longhorn on luke johnson's first book.
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thank you.

JANICE N. HARRINGTON: A MEDITATION ON THE ART OF DOILIES

from Beloit Poetry Journal Poet's Forum:

“Why, Oh Why, the Doily?” was triggered by re-discovering a collection of doilies, family keepsakes. So began a meditation on the meaning of doilies and the devalued artistry of women. My early attempts in 2004 sounded elegiac—here’s a lost time and here’s what doilies meant. Despite continual revision, drafts never moved beyond the small container of personal history.
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Why, Oh Why, the Doily?

bits

went shopping for a new jacket today. i need it for my upcoming trip east.
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robert hayden reads two poems: frederick douglass, middle passage.
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17 days and counting!
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Nation's third poetry-only bookstore opens in Colorado
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crap! i totally forgot about the upcoming first book contests. correction: i totally forgot about first book contest fees! damn. i have to figure out a way to pay for the fees. double crap.
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now i'm depressed.
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angelo nikolopoulos: whispering pines, texas

poems that i love

Work Song

My name is Henri. Listen. It’s morning.
I pull me head from my scissors, I pull
The light bulb from my mouth – Boss comes at me
While I’m still blinking.
Pastes the pink slip on my collar bone.
It’s O.K., I say, I was a lazy worker, and I stole.
I wipe my feet on his skullcap on the way out.

I am Henri, mouth full of soda crackers.
I live in Toulouse, which is a piece of cardboard.
Summers the mayors paint it blue, we fish in it.
Winters we skate on it. Children are always
Drowning or falling in the cracks. Parents are distraught
But get over it. It’s easy to replace a child.
Like my parents’ child, Henri.

I stuff my hands into my shoes
And I crawl through the snow on all fours.
Animals fear me. I smell so good.
I have two sets of footprints, I confuse the police.
When I reach the highway I unzip my head.

I am a zipper. A paper cut.
I fed myself so many times
through the shredder I am confetti,
I am a ticker-tape parade, I am an astronaut
Waving from my convertible at Henri.

Henri from Toulouse, is that you?
Why the unhappy face? I should shoot you
For spoiling my parade. Come on, man,
Glue yourself together! You want so much to die
That you don’t want to die.

My name is Henri. I am Toulouse. I am scraps
Of bleached parchment, I am the standing militia,
I am a quill, the Red Cross, I am the feather
in my cap, the Hebrew Testament, I am the World Court.
An electric fan blows
Beneath my black robe. I am dignity itself.

I am an ice machine.
I am an alp.
I stuff myself in the refrigertator
Wrapped in newsprint. With salt in my heart
I stay good for days.

Mark Levine

Congrats, Christopher Hennessy!

Dear “Love in Idleness,” or a letter on the occasion of my first book of poetry accepted for publication

bits

just got rejected by my favorite online journal. boo! no one wants the two poems i sent. i love these two poems; i thought someone would've published them by now. but then again: i'm a terrible judge of my own work. the poems i like the least are often the favorites of others, etc.
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Danielle Cadena Deulen: Corrida de Toros
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no work today. went to eat some indian food with a co-worker. yummy.
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luke johnson: The UPS tracker says I'll have a big 'ol box on my porch tomorrow evening. This is craziness. There are fish dying and birds falling from the sky. I worry that my book's release has triggered the apocalypse. Still, just in case, I've added a PayPal button to the blog, for anyone who'd like to buy the book directly from me...
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i have a greasy face. there i said it.
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are you reading this blog? i am.
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chickens!

sunday bits

my feet are cold, but my heart is warm.
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review: kristina marie darling
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goodness: i have to work at 7am tomorrow, which means i have to get up at 6am. when will poetry pay the bills? ha.
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27 days and counting!
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i need new glasses. correction: i need new frames.
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man, do i ever talk about anything serious on my blog? no, i don't. it's all fluff and hottie of the week. but hey, i got to be me!
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open reading period: CavanKerry
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i've facebook friended a lot of my co-workers. is that a good or bad thing? you tell me.
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hello, kevin gonzalez.