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Link 11 Apr 2 notes Poets & Writers»

Do yourself a favor and go hang out with Poets & Writers blog for a minute. It’s just like looking at pictures of cats.

Quote 10 Apr
Always telling the truth is no doubt better than always lying, although equally pathological.
— Robert Brault
Link 10 Apr 1 note Denice Frohman - "Dear Straight People" (WOWPS 2013)»

I’m pretty sure I’ve posted this before, but I was having a conversation this morning that made me say, “Maybe you should meet Denice Frohman…”

Text 13 Mar 2 notes Poem #194, from Michelangelo’s Collected Poems

Here my fate wills that I should sleep too early,
but I am not really dead; though I’ve changed homes,
I live on in you, who see and mourn me now,
since one lover is transformed into the other.

Video 11 Mar

It’s like spring time. But the snow is coming (back).

Link 11 Mar 2 notes decomP magazinE»

I didn’t think I wrote the kind of poem that decomP would publish, but apparently I do! One of my poems is in this month’s issue. Thinking about it makes me bounce up and down a little.

Quote 10 Mar 2 notes
The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely.
— Lorraine Hansberry
Link 8 Mar 2 notes #AmtrakResidency -»

This is amazing. I so want one.

Text 7 Mar Writing Prompt #34: Written in the Stars

Maybe you saw this coming, after the poem I just posted by Kay Ryan.
1. Take 5 minutes. Write down everything you know about stars: constellations, names, sizes, heat, elements.
2. Take 5 minutes and make up 5 things about stars/night sky: who is the man in the moon speaking to? What is the name of the next spaceship to be launched? Make up a constellation, a zodiac sign, a star death.
3. When was the last time you looked at the stars, or at the night sky at all? Go back to that moment, and begin writing with the line, “There is no such thing as…” In this poem, include one true thing about stars and one totally made up thing.

Text 6 Mar 1 note "Star Block," by Kay Ryan

There is no such thing
as star block.
We do not think of
locking out the light
of other galaxies.
It is light
so rinsed of impurities
(heat, for instance)
that it excites
no antibodies in us.
Yet people are
curiously soluble
in starlight.
Bathed in its
absence of insistence
their substance
loosens willingly,
their bright
designs dissolve.
Not proximity
but distance burns us
with love.


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