Friday, March 17, 2006
Ever felt the need to hear irreverant poetry in an ecclesiastical setting? Well, don't miss your chance! I, and a host of other poets, will be reading this Tuesday at
Grace Church's poetry coffeehouse for No Tell Motel.
So, come on down! It's like the Poetry Project, but in D.C., and with snacks.
1041 Wisconsin Ave NW
at 7:30 P.M.
Tuesday, March 21.
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Thursday, March 16, 2006
A Maureen Among ManyI was googling myself (sad, yes, but I do it all the time, and anyway, I don't need
your validation, just Google's) and I found a bunch of pictures of myself in a very strange flickr tag thingy devoted only to
pictures of Maureens.
The page mentions "Maureen Clusters." Is that the kind of cookie that a monster would make out of me? Hmmm...
p.s. I am not one of the dancy-booby girls up at the top. Sorry, dudes, but that just ain't my thing. Enjoy, though!
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My bookbinding supplies and I are engaged in a disagreement. I am working on Big Game's first big project, and I have set the text, designed the cover, and now am trying to work on prototype chapbooks. I am at the inevitable stage where I keep measuring things wrong and the string breaks and the darn signatures keep jogging out of alignment.
I know I will eventually find a method of producing this chapbook, en masse, that is smooth and uniform, but as for now, I feel like a mad scientist, discarding wretched little creatures behind me, their spines all bent out of whack.
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Ancient Chinese Secret vs. The San Francisco RenaissanceChannel-surfing the other night, I came across a cartoon show involving the struggle of a bunch of Shaolin trainees against a robot-wielding villain named Jack Spicer.
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Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Found Inside a Copy of Creeley's Selected
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Over the weekend, I turned my home into a jungle. My balcony, actually. I went plant crazy. But the balmy weather is about to disappear, and I find myself facing the possibility of moving about a dozen plants into the house. This gives me the fear . . . houses with too many houseplants are frightening. You know those houses where people have let a ficus or rubber tree go crazy and it's all pressed up against the window so that you know that no natural sunlight can penetrate, and you think that the people inside must be terrible freaks who want no one to glimpse inside their cavern of pain? Yeah. Ew.
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Modem, Heal ThyselfApparently, all my cable modem needed was to get run over by my Roomba a couple of times. It magically began working again just after Roomba almost choked to death on the modem's power cord.
It is times like this, when I find myself scolding my Roomba, ("Oh, Roomba, don't eat that!") that I realize the extreme primitivity of the human brain.
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Monday, March 13, 2006
Alack, my cable modem is dead. A new one shall be brought to me tomorrow.
I am pretty much out of my work funk. I will resume blogging with some regularity once the cable is back.
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