words, words, words










 
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If you'd like to volunteer for the Russ Carnahan campaign for U.S. Congress Please give our offices a call at 534-2004 or email me at stephen@russcarnahan.org

biologic show
secret kings
waremouse
cucalambe
chrisafer
dogpoet
brent
salon
jeff
cho
rob



places to visit:
Center for Theology and Social Analysis
Lynda Barry
astralwerks
Sherman's Lagoon




Another place I write:
Queerday




relevant pasts:
fear of sunrise
manboylove
peaceful
soup
objection
who are you?
birthday
one year










 
If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?



P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.





raisin@gmail.com



albums:

Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out


songs:

Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork







many napkins
 
Saturday, October 19, 2002  
I didn't know he was the poet laureate.
Funny, I just learned recently that America still had poet laureates. I thought we did away with that before I was born. Apparently, Howard Nemerov, a St Louis native, was poet laureate sometime in the sixties maybe. But Billy Collins is our current poet laureate. I thought I was alone in loving him. He's pictured to the right, next to my notebook, as one of my favorite things. I've never loved a poet more than him, except for maybe William Carlos Williams. I picked Collins out of a shelf of poetry at the independent store on Market St, near the Castro in San Francisco. I think the night I picked him out was the same night a small Asian man invited me over to watch a movie at his place with his friends. I can't remember why I declined to join him. So it's nice to find a NYTimes article on him, although it would be nicer to actually meet someone who knows Collins' poetry. But then, I'm not sure those people actually exist, not sure I have enough hope for that. Still, I love him, and I keep a book of his by my bed, just in case. He makes me laugh, makes me want to write, makes me think and dream and pause over life. I would have paused today, had I been able to, driving into work through Illinois, watching the slope of the fields curve to meet the trees, colored a bit by the playful fall. Even the ferns change colors--i didn't notice that last year. Soon I will be able to see my favorite evergreen more clearly when I drive to work, no longer blocked by the leaves on the other trees, although it stands taller than the rest of them and is always easy to find. That drive is beautiful, and it feeds me everyday I drive it. And that is Collins' essence, able to describe such wonders of everyday life with such honor and humility that he elevates them to great parts of our lives, worthy of remembering and pausing. Fall is when I went to hang on to the world and say, stay, stay where you are, dont move too quickly, i just want to watch for a while because I know it's all going to change so fast. all going to change so fast.

ok, so i just learned that William Carlos Williams was also appointed Poet Laureate but did not serve the post. all the things i don't know.

4:51 PM

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