In my last entry I mentioned the Cantab Lounge open mike
. Maybe it’s not the best place to promote a novel, but it’s a wonderful place to listen to poetry and laugh a lot. The participants are mostly young and very funny in between their poems, which are mostly sincere. I heard a poet named Claire Andersen deliver the following kickass poem and was so delighted that I asked her permission to reproduce it here, which she graciously gave. Read more
I’m adding a poetry
page to the site, rather against my better judgment. As I explained a while ago
, I wrote a hell of a lot of poems in college, and they represent a part of my writing life that seems to be pretty much over. Interestingly, I’ve noticed that even though social media are very much about the present (I was chagrined to realize that my #TheOneWayRain
hashtag only pulls up posts from the past week), that present is elongated; one way to self-promote, for example, is tweet the same blog entries over and over, at varying intervals. So I feel that my old poems may as well move in here, as they’re not going anywhere else. Read more
We are thinking still
About Boston in the spring
But it might not be.
Not sure whether this was an intentional haiku.
The 1990-1991 semester was quite a year for me. I was twenty years old, a junior at Yale, deeply in love with someone who was unambiguously unavailable, and taking a poetry seminar, and I was simply writing poetry all the time. Read more
My mind on the internet is not so much a pan of frying eggs as a plate of migas
: well scrambled, with jalapeños. I could barely concentrate on Adam Gopnik’s roundup
of what-the-web-does-to-our-brain-books, though this seemed astute: Read more