In the mailbag:
Beautiful, frameable print of "Adoption" by the wonderful Katey Nicosia, which I am loving.
"The most masculine-smelling soap [she] could find" from my dear friend Jolene.
The copy of Gihon River Review in which my poems "Therapist with a Dream Inside: Friday Morning Aubade" and "Smoking Bride" appear.
Enough rejections to keep my ego as small as my—well, small.
Conspicuously absent from the mailbag: a diploma.
I've been to the used bookstores several times in the past week and a half, and I've picked up books by:
Lee Ann Roripaugh, Rilke, Charles Wright, Norman Dubie, Louise Glück, Nicholas Christopher, Adrienne Rich, June Jordan, Leslie Scalapino, Maureen Seaton, Bernadette Meyer, and Rita Dove.
Of the above list, I'm ashamed to admit I've only previously read four of those poets.
These will be my new busride companions for the next several weeks.
Ordered from Amazon: The Waves, Virginia Woolf, recommended by several trusted friends as being an amazing experience. I've also never read Woolf, but I've read "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" AND The Hours, so I've read the Madame Tussaud's wax museum version of Virginia Woolf. Approximately.