- I’m training myself to remember snatches of imagery that I conjure up in my sleep. It’s an exciting venture! (I’ve also realized that I should not sleep with the radio on, but that’s another story.) I think sleep is where my poems come from. Last night I captured: a plucked bird, (as metaphor for hopelessness).
- Sylvia Foley, senior editor at the American Journal of Nursing, and a wonderful writer of fiction (read her stories in Life in the Air Ocean), posted a blog on the AJN site that featured 3 recent poems published in AJN, mine among them. Thank you Sylvia!
- I won’t be posting while I’m away for the next week. I have loaded my Kindle, and am trying (with less than stellar success) to limit the book-toting to a small pile.
- Yesterday I posted the novels I plan to read. I will have to add another novel, Austerlitz, W.G. Sebald, to the pile. It’s been sitting on my shelf for several years, I distinctly remember buying it at the Barnes and Noble near Easton PA. But somehow I managed to put it aside until last night, when I started to read it. Now of course, it will have to come with me.
- It’s so great for traveling that poetry volumes, for the most part, take up so little space. I’m taking these with me:
The book of questions, Pablo Neruda
Sky Burial, Dana Levin
The Vixen, W.S. Merwin
Letters from the Emily Dickinson Room, Kelli Russell Agodon
The Ginkgo Light, Arthur Sze
Crush, Richard Silken
- Oh yeah, I’m also taking some not previously mentioned slim non-poetry (don’t you think that should be a category?)
Sum: forty tales from the afterlives, David Eagleman (bringing this for my niece)
Suicide, Edouard Levé