Wednesday, October 26, 2011

the water table

I found another poem this morning. I wrote it in April. Not too shabby. I love finding old pieces of writing that I've lost emotional attachment to; not to say emotion isn't there, but the drive or push to write it has disappeared and I'm left with the artifact of emotion. Oh beloved little scratches on a page! I love you, sweet detritus.

Keeping extraordinarily busy. Being an adult. Kind of weird. I'm living well these days. (I wish you could see the sky from my window right now and how the undersides of the clouds are a peachy-pink and the tops gloomy., Fucking beautiful.) I'm moved quickly into my old self, social. Stepping into the swagger.

Here is the piece I read at V.A.M.P. for Say Say We All last month, "The Game." And another song I dig.

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