So many things vie for our time, threaten to reduce us to strangers spasming at the stoplight as we worry about the next commitment we must reach on time because of some artifical frame that we have allowed our need for a salary to place around our true selves.
It is too damn easy to get wrapped up in crap like this and forget to live your life, forget to even notice that beautiful goldfinch right there in the tree beside you.
Work is consuming nearly all of my time right now and would be a twenty-four-hour job if I allowed it to be.
This isn’t surprising, given that it’s the end of the fiscal year—a normal June, really—but I am trying very hard to retain my passion, to hold onto the poet in the midst of my overcommitments and changing job landscape and arrogant yet oh-so-lousy new boss and her disappointing new administration (and did I mention that she has no idea how to perform my job yet keeps trying to micromanage me anyway?).
Mainly, this is very bad news because I must stay here another year before I am vested and have benefits for life upon retirement.
Danishgrrl says I am burned to a crisp and has suggested an impromptu cookout with friends till she can whisk me off to the beach for a long luxurious weekend.
Hope this helps.
Nothing good in the world has ever been done by well-rounded people. The good work is done by people with jagged, broken edges, because those edges cut things and leave an imprint, a design.—Harry Crews
So did anyone else hear that naval-gazing poet Billy Collins read on NPR last night?
Jezzzuslawd that man is self-absorbed! He read a precious little poem about poetry (with a capital P) that was basically a bunch of masturbatory self-congratulatory lines that didn’t amount to anything, and then Terry Gross practically peed her pants congratulating him.
I guess I need to remember that poet laureates are not chosen from poets’ poets.
As for me, I want to slap the pompous man in the name of O’Hara and Broumas and all the new and innovative poets writing meaningful lines today.
Meanwhile, the New York Times is running a series of articles on how genes move and change, written by the amazingly hot smartypants evolutionary biologist Olivia Judson and wow what a picture of her they have posted! It’s almost enough to make me subscribe to Times Select instead of reading my electronic freebie.
Not much time to read right now though—although I am following the impact of Robert Kennedy Jr.’s Rolling Stone article on how the Republicans deliberately stole the election in Ohio.
This is, what, the fourth report to verify this horrifying reality, but has the story been broadcast by the mainstream media
(who, for that matter, still haven’t reported that Gore actually won in Florid.)?
There’s something rotten in the state of Denmark when Americans have to listen to the BBC to find out about the demise of our democratic principles.
LISTENING TO: the wheels go round and round (I really love to watch them roll)
READING: Sartre’s Existentialism and Human Emotions
SANG IN SHOWER: Kasey Chambers’ “Pony”: When I grow up I want a baby. I’m going to name it after Ralph Stanley...
BEST-OF SPAM: Anything to please your woman (uh huh)