"My mind's not right"

So, my brain hasn't been picking up poetry waves for the past several days (a week?) if you haven't noticed by the flurry of incidental posts and song lyrics.

I'm resting.

I'm going to go back into the new book in a while. I'm definitely done generating new work for a bit. I need to see which walls are cracked, need new plaster, need framed photos.

I'm reading Carl Phillips's The Rest of Love and really enjoying it. Why haven't I read his work sooner? I also bought Coin of the Realm. I read his interview in the Hennessy book and realized he and I are concerned (read: obsessed) with similar themes and issues.

Finished Gregory Orr's Concerning the Book that is the Body of the Beloved on Peter's recommendation.

So, I'm still doing things. Writing's just not one of them right now.


  1. I have to believe that we're writing all the time even when it doesn't seem like we're writing or even thinking about writing. I have to believe this because I'm so insecure about writing and about the thing that is poetry which is elusive at best. I have to believe that the poetry is going on all the time in my head the way a tulip bulb grows or lies fallow in the ground. It's alive, it's being a tulip even when there isn't a gorgeous wolf's head bloom.

  2. You have mail. Hope it's helpful.