August 2011
1 post
Southern hospitality, good poets, the state of wed
Privyet!
I have forsaken all others. And it is wonderful.
And for all y’all that want tropics without the cancer of wet t-shirt contests and mock Hemingways (forgive me), check out the Hotel Marquesa, manned by the incomparable Carol Wightman.
Just back (pre-wedding) from a tremendous session as a Tennessee Williams scholar at Sewanee Writers’ Conference, where I interfaced with...
September 2010
1 post
Past and future readings. Not much else.
Thanks to Tim Gager & fellow readers Kitty Beer and Jim McDevitt for frisky times at the Dire Literary Series in Cambridge. I like a reading where the break-takers and the wine-refillers are urged on, not penalized.
Next Saturday I read at Ada’s Books in Providence with poet Gillian Devereux.
In other news - well, I am news-less as the prep-school shuffle begins, early wake-ups and the...
May 2010
1 post
W.S., KGB, SBJ, the brilliance that is "Election"
I’ve been living a Siberian hamster-like existence in the palaces of my mind AND the world above. Two readings in New York—the first at a party in Brooklyn feat. veg. dumplings of infinite variety, the second at KGB bar which is, as my friend Kara put it, “very KGB-ish.” Much fun had in the city but the predictable exhaustion/sense of “there are a lot of people doing...
April 2010
1 post
Chapbooks are here!
I just received author copies. Sun! Chapbooks! Charles Simic reading tonight!
March 2010
2 posts
Watch
Watch
February 2010
4 posts
Chapbook, High Art, Infinite Jest
I just received word from Daniel Lin at Love Among the Ruins that my chapbook The Clever Decoys is nearly ready for release!
I now must commence making a contact list of Everyone I Know, a list which I fear will be petite, and which I am somewhat afraid to use as I loathe the idea of bombarding folks with ‘look at what I’m UP TO!’ promotional emails. Perhaps if I had an angle,...
Slow Dancin', Year of the Tiger, Love Poems
The Valentine’s Dance, held in a space that would comfortably accommodate twenty, feat. 70 + adolescents storming the floor in the outfits du jour (spandex shorts and mesh jerseys, all day-glo) & fist-pumping, jumping, grinding, etc. My place of employment mandates that I occasionally chaperone these events, and I’m always torn between feeling creepily voyeuristic—I am watching other people...
Weeping, imprecision, J-Cam, Poe
And thus when by Poetry—or when by Music, the most entrancing of the Poetic moods—we find ourselves melted into tears—we weep then … through excess of pleasure, but through a certain, petulant, impatient sorrow at our inability to grasp now, wholly, here on earth, at once and forever, those divine and rapturous joys, of which through...
Revise, Vicodin
does not have quite the same prosodic charm as “Speak, Memory” but as the second part of that phrase is doing perverse little jigs on my gray matter, I can’t think of anything better.
Bad news: I, aged 28, of sound mind & body, will be the proud recipient of a second root canal tomorrow at noon. This fact unsettles me because 1. they’re dramatic and painful 2. they...
January 2010
1 post
Delicious. Nutritious. Oh, praise pairings!
Hamsters. Peter Saaarsgaaaard. Cherry blossoms. Erasure’s “Chains of Love.” Some things are stand-alone fantastic.
But on this bitter (9 degrees) Sunday morn, nothing hits the spot like poetry and truffles.
Ryan Flaherty and Katie Umans are co-editors of the Concher, a hand-stitched, hard-bound journal. It’s lovely and small and canvas and blue. Orange lettering....