National Poetry Month
Welp, I'm not going to blog for long since I've been reduced to using my smart phone for almost all types of communication -- I'm rarely able to put the baby down for long enough to sit at the computer, and using the laptop when my lap is already occupied by a sleeping or nursing baby is impossible ...
But I wanted to post, maybe by way of public resolution, that I'm going to at least READ a lot of poetry this month if I can't find time or space or the requisite quiet inside my head to WRITE it. So many people are participating in the poem-a-day exercise I started to feel a little out of the loop ... And then I looked down at my smushy kissable Vampire Baby (who, while adorable, is still sucking my life force from me, even if she's now outside the womb) and said ... Fuck NaPoWriMo or whatever the hell it's called, I have a BABY... And then I said to myself, since the baby was asleep and the dogs were outside and there was really no one else to talk to ..."Self, stop being surly. Good for those who can write a poem a day. You've NEVER been able to do that, even when you had all the time in the world ...." And THEN I said, "Self, pick up a damn book, you lazy bastard" and then I stopped talking to myself, 'cause things were getting weird.
So I just finished Brooklyn Copeland's chapbook with Hyacinth Girl Press, "Salt Ballads," which combines Copeland's original poems with translations of the work of Swedish poet Edith Sodergran. I liked it -- Copeland's work pairs nicely with the small fragments she's borrowed from Sodergran. It's an interesting conversation in verse.
My goal for April, then, is to move through the rest of the HGP chaps that I haven't read yet, and some of the back issues of lit journals that have been gathering dust since this strange new year began.
And occasionally I'll post my thoughts about that reading here, as well as cool things I find on the interwebs, like this:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/audio/Small-Moth-by-Sarah-Lindsay.mp3
I'll leave you now with photographic evidence of why-I-can't-get-much-done-and-don't-really-want-to-anyway:
But I wanted to post, maybe by way of public resolution, that I'm going to at least READ a lot of poetry this month if I can't find time or space or the requisite quiet inside my head to WRITE it. So many people are participating in the poem-a-day exercise I started to feel a little out of the loop ... And then I looked down at my smushy kissable Vampire Baby (who, while adorable, is still sucking my life force from me, even if she's now outside the womb) and said ... Fuck NaPoWriMo or whatever the hell it's called, I have a BABY... And then I said to myself, since the baby was asleep and the dogs were outside and there was really no one else to talk to ..."Self, stop being surly. Good for those who can write a poem a day. You've NEVER been able to do that, even when you had all the time in the world ...." And THEN I said, "Self, pick up a damn book, you lazy bastard" and then I stopped talking to myself, 'cause things were getting weird.
So I just finished Brooklyn Copeland's chapbook with Hyacinth Girl Press, "Salt Ballads," which combines Copeland's original poems with translations of the work of Swedish poet Edith Sodergran. I liked it -- Copeland's work pairs nicely with the small fragments she's borrowed from Sodergran. It's an interesting conversation in verse.
My goal for April, then, is to move through the rest of the HGP chaps that I haven't read yet, and some of the back issues of lit journals that have been gathering dust since this strange new year began.
And occasionally I'll post my thoughts about that reading here, as well as cool things I find on the interwebs, like this:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/audio/Small-Moth-by-Sarah-Lindsay.mp3
I'll leave you now with photographic evidence of why-I-can't-get-much-done-and-don't-really-want-to-anyway:
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