So, I don't think I've ever done this before, but working on a review over the last few weeks, I was dreaming about the book and what I found so compelling in it. I acutally got up and went and jotted it down and it still made good sense even when I was awake.
I also dreamed that we were hiring John Montague at my university. Which is odd, since I don't actually have a University right now. Of course, Montague because I've written on his work, but what a joy it was to imagine his office just down the hall in my imagined university.
And not dreaming:
I read for a ladies' group on Tuesday. There were only about 10 in the circle but it was a pleasure to read and have others comment and ask questions about the poems.
And three poems soon in journals: "Troupe Portrait with Unicycle" is forthcoming in Tar River Poetry. "From the Greenhouse" and "The Drowned Girl orders a Cone" from Sojourn.
My husband asks me "What would be enough? Your first book?" I don't think it's possible to set a finish line for poetry. Is it? One goal leads to the next, one hurdle passed prepares you for the next. I want to run forever.
happy poetry month