Thursday, January 20, 2011

aches and aches

I've been under the weather. I wrote my first poem of the new year last night shortly before falling asleep (and shortly before almost calling B to take me to the emergency room because I was convinced I was dying, but it was just a mini-panic attack.) Sad fucking little poem. I'm glad I didn't die because the last poem I ever wrote would have made me look like my life is a tragedy when truly I have it pretty damn good and am just a whiner when sick.

I started a book yesterday that my friend Marco mentioned on his blog, Notes from Normalcy. Leonard Cohen's Book of Longing. I bawled my eyes out reading it. Maybe it was because I was sick, or because there was a full moon or maybe just because the writing struck bone. Writing rarely does that to me anymore.

I'm tired, tired tired. My body is fighting something. I'll let it fight while I sleep.

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