Friday, March 16, 2007

 

I've very dissatisfied with my writing. The things that used to be the answers aren't the answers any more.

I need a different kind of question.

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Ack. My insomnia is back. And I was being so good about going to bed on time. No mas, I guess. I actually liked what I was doing at work today, so I must now be in the Bermuda Triangle.

Let's go dancing. It's been too long. By dancing I do not mean something metaphorical. I mean, let's salsa our asses off. Or whatever spastic herky-jerk you pass off as your own Very Special Dance Move.

All night! All night long! Whoo!

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Thursday, March 15, 2007

 

Tinyside 30 is sold out! Get 26-29 over at Big Game Books. All manner of poetical things are occurring around here. I'm working on a new Big Game chap (more on that later), book covers aplenty, and on some of my own actual poems.

Also, today was the ideas of March. Which means we've got two weeks and some change before NaPoWriMo strikes again! Time to start stretching, and getting ready for a monthlong poetical marathon.

UPDATE. I meant the "IDES" of March, not the ideas of March. But I like Ideas of March better. Beware the Ideas of March!

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Tuesday, March 13, 2007

 

There is no end, my beautiful friend

Tinysides 26-30 are here. Get 'em hot off the presses over at Big Game Books.

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Dude. My aquarium is leaking. Just a little. Like a quarter inch of water every twelve hours or so. But still.

I have ordered a new tank, which should arrive by Thursday. And then the great transfer shall begin!

I wrote a new poem last night. It's called "Circle gets the square" and yes, it does involve Shadow Stevens.

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Monday, March 12, 2007

 

Death by Productivity!

The weekend did indeed lighten my mood, with its toasty warmth. I finished work on a new set of tinysides (to be released later this week), and sent out responses to the stuff sent in during the last submission period. I did my taxes and my laundry. I bought a rocking-chair. I subbed for Mel as co-curator of the Ruthless Grip series, ate guacamole, cleaned my house, started reading a book I bought because of a Juan Gris painting, had lunch with a friend, and wrote four new drunken sailor poems.

And my fish are still alive, and have thus outlasted their warranty. I am quite pleased with my ability to not kill them, which could only result in my having to bring them back to the shop as little badges of shame to be traded in for something new to smite, disease, and hound to death with unclean tanks or fishy fish-food.

Spring appears to be upon us in D.C., and soon the whole place will leaf out and I can start spending all my extraneous money on plants for the balcony. This year's theme: cactus and flowers. Last year's tomato/squirrel war sort of soured me on vegetables, although I still plan to try to grow a squash.

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