Thursday, November 30, 2006

Yessss!

My best friend, GD, arrives today. It will be so much fun having her here with us for 3 weeks. There will be much talk of poems and poetry. There will be much wine had.


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We are tired of waiting on Netflix for season 2 of LOST, so we bought it at Target yesterday. Jacob bought Napoleon Dynamite.


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Conde Nast spam? Yeah, I got an email with subject line: "Come Track Lions With Us On Safari!" Good God. I would probably be devoured by a lion on safari.


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Our dwarf neon blue gourami (not the murderous honey gold ones) died while we were in Vegas. We kind of knew she wasn't right because she had been eating less and swimming around less. None of the other fish were doing this. Sure enough, when we got back from Vegas, we found her dead at the bottom of the tank. Its weird, but since it was the only dwarf blue gourami we had, we keep noticing that she isn't there. We have lost two other fish since we started the aquarium back in early August, but they were neon tetras (killed by the gouramis) and we didn't notice them missing as much.


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Tried to post the book jacket as a sneak peek. But it would load into blogger correctly. It looks fantastic. Four Way did a phenomenal job.


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Clue: Chandon Brut Rose


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Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Aramaic & William Tell

Some days I want to ponder the meaning of life. And some days, I want to ponder why on God's green earth does Ricky Martin have Aramaic characters inscribed on his bicep?! And why do I find this both hott and repulsive at the same time?



(photo from Ocean Drive Espanol)


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Spent the morning reading more submissions. So many poems. So little space.


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TELL


He opens the scullery door, and a sudden rush
of wind, as raw as raw,
brushes past him as he himself will brush
past the stacks of straw

that stood in earlier for Crow
or Comanche tepees hung with scalps
but tonight past muster, row upon row,
for the foothills of the Alps.

He opens the door of the peeling-shed
just as one of the apple-peelers
(one of almost a score
of red-cheeked men who pare

and core
the red-cheeked apples for a few spare
shillings) mutters something about "bloodshed"
and the "peelers."

The red-cheeked men put down their knives
at one and the same
moment. All but his father, who somehow connives
to close one eye as if taking aim

or holding back a tear,
and shoots him a glance
he might take, as it whizzes past his ear,
for a Crow, or a Comanche, lance

hurled through the Tilley-lit
gloom of the peeling-shed,
when he hears what must be an apple split
above his head.


--Paul Muldoon


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Clue: Space Heater


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Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Surprises

There is nothing like suddenly seeing a big credit applied to your credit card out of nowhere. Thanks, Vegas!


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Was crushed today at work. Never had time to post.


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It is freezing today in SF. I am now looking forward to Florida for Christmas!


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Clue: Prince


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Monday, November 27, 2006

Letters, etc.

I just got the December issue of POETRY; I was quite surprised to see a tiny email of mine sent to them about my love for Doug Powell's poems in their September issue in the "Letters" section. Anyway, I loved those poems, and I really have returned to read them over and over. To be honest, I heard Doug read those poems at a Legitimate Dangers reading we did together at Pegasus Books in Berkeley, and I immediate asked to consider them for NER. Sadly, he had already placed them in POETRY.


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ODLP has some good news to share. Exciting.


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I am excited to report my brain is blank for poetry. A great feeling. The writing streak has come to a close for the year.


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How is it December is almost here?


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Clue: Mexican Riviera


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One Holiday Down

Hard to believe the long weekend is over already, and it is time to go back to work. Jacob and I had a great time. And I think both of our parents had a great time as well. I think we discovered our new favorite hotel in Vegas: THEhotel at Mandalay Bay.


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More reading for NER to do.


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Who knew tiny pieces of honeydew melon, lump crabmeat, red pepper, and a white pepper/melon ceviche could be delicious beyond belief?


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I cannot believe it is almost December already. It was a year ago we moved into this house. This is almost unbelievable to me. A year ago, I was in total hell: my old practice was dissolving, we were moving, I was busy setting up a new practice, we were moving full speed ahead with the wedding plans, etc. I was completely stressed out around this time last year. I must be getting old because time is actually passing more quickly for me now.


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So, it WAS James Hall who won the last Caption Contest.


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Jacob and I absconded with almost a week's supply of bath products from THEhotel. What can I say? You know I love bath products.


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Clue: Clink


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Friday, November 24, 2006

After the Turkey

When we arrived at Mandalay Bay, the woman checking us in asked my parents if they needed a King bed or 2 Queen beds. They said they preferred a King. The woman checking us in said, "Oh, yes, you requested that in the reservation." Well, then she got to me and Jacob and asked us nothing. When we got to our suite, the bedroom had 2 Queen beds. Well, I marched right back down to the front desk and asked that it be corrected. I booked a King bed. They tried to give me some bullshit answer, but the reality is she never thought to ask and never looked at the reservation. Two guys meant two beds. Jeez, I thought Vegas had come beyond that, especially at a resort like Mandalay Bay. Anyway, everything has been great since that initial moment. And THEhotel at Mandalay Bay is gorgeous.


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Jacob revised scores on the flight here. I have never felt so cultured, even though all I was doing was reading an issue of Conde Nast Traveler.


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Tonight, Cirque du Soleil's KA. We saw it opening weekend some time ago, so we hope they have worked out the kinks by now.


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I need to finish reading the Appolinaire. It is just that I keep doing other things here.


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I definitely need to look into a colony or something for 2 weeks sometime in 2007. I think I almost have enough work for a new book, but I need the time to sit down and see what I have and how it works (if it works at all). Maybe I will just rent a place somewhere and commit to working on this. I just worry I will be distracted if not in a place where I feel the pressure to work.


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Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving.


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Clue: Deep Tissue Massage


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Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Victor # 10

Jacob has named the winner of Caption Contest #10: James (Hall?)




"Will "Work It, Girl!" for Food."


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Runner Up: Aaron Smith for "Godspeedo, men! Godspeedo!"


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Okay, off to Vegas. Have a Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! If in Vegas, look for me at the Baccarat Tables or at the craps tables. If at the craps tables, I will be the one screaming like a big gurl. They don't call it Mandalay Gay for nothing.


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Clue: 7-11 coming out...


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Finally

Yesterday was one of those days where I couldn't even catch my breath. Non-stop all day. I didn't have much time to think about anything other than the jobs at hand.


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Jacob still hasn't named a winner of the Caption Contest. I am hoping he will shortly.



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We are off to Las Vegas shortly to meet my parents and his parents there. I have never spent Thanksgiving in Vegas, so this should be interesting.


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Clue: Policy Tank


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Monday, November 20, 2006

All Beige

I dreamt last night I was in college and went to hear a lecture given by Bill Clinton. After the lecture, he and Hillary invited me to fly with them to a lecture/course they were both giving in London. This is weird because I was back in college but was somehow married to Jacob. I hopped on the plane and was trying to reach Jacob to tell him I was going to London to listen to the Clintons and was now on their private jet (which was, in the dream a Boeing 767 that had a dining room, living room, etc.). It was all weirdly beige. Everything was beige. I couldn't get in touch with Jacob and was worried he would be worried I was dead or something. Very strange dream. For God's sake, I left college in this dream to become a Clinton groupie!


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No, I haven't seen Casino Royale yet. No, I am not obsessed with Bond, James Bond. No, I am not in love with Daniel Craig. If you want these things, visit Aaron Smith.


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I printed out the final book cover jacket I got from Four Way via pdf last night here at work on the mega pixel million and one color printer. It is so effing beautiful I thought I was going to have a heart attack. It is so gorgeous I want to, well, you know, love it!


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Clue: Still not Wednesday


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The Measure

Is it Wednesday yet? Oh, I see. It's Monday.


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I am trying to get Jacob to name a winner of the latest caption contest. His response: "There aren't that many entries yet." And alas, I have to admit he is right. Anyway, if you want to be a winner (and yes, here at The Muse everyone is a winner) go ahead and give us a caption.


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I know it is hard to believe, but I really am a doctor. Over the weekend, a friend of mine was in a bicycle accident (not surprising in this city) and his boyfriend told me he bruised his back and was in pain. I picked up my cell phone, called my friend, asked him some questions, and then I called in a prescription. My friend's boyfriend stood there looking bewildered. It was as if although he knew I was a doctor, he couldnt believe I really was one. Yup folks, I really am a doctor. I know I joke that I only play one on TV, but that is just a joke.


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"I can't see any reason to publish because there's more people out there writing it than reading it. . . . We have so much information that we don't want and don't need in this world and writers have to take a measure of that, I think. If you don't have anything new to say, don't say it."


Uhm, didn't I say this almost verbatim six months ago when discussing why some poets don't write as much as others? Anyhoo, this article about Canadian poetry sounds awfully familiar.


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Why the hell are radio stations playing Christmas music the weekend BEFORE Thanksgiving? Are they trying to ensure we will all be stark-raving mad by Christmas Day?


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Clue: Yellow Sub


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Sunday, November 19, 2006

Orchestral Manoeuvers

I got to listen to the first five minutes of Jacob's new piece he is writing for cello and orchestra. I was floored. I had never heard anything he has written for orchestra before. I was also completely amazed at the idea of writing for so many instruments at one time and still making something that didn't sound like a mess. Composers of classical music still leave me in awe. I thought the string quartet was impressive, but this is impressive on a different scale.


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And because he has been busy writing music, Jacob has not yet selected the winner of the Caption Contest. At this point, not many people have entered. So, if you have a caption, scroll on down and enter it.


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My semester at Warren Wilson has technically come to a close. I finished grading my last packet, and I have filled out the last of the final evaluations. Hard to believe the semester went by so quickly. It seems like last month we were at the residency setting out on this semester. But the residency was in early July!


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More NER work to do now, and then I get to sit down and read some Appolinaire, which should be good.


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I need to run and buy some wine. Our stores are starting to run low, and that is dangerous because then you want to drink a signature Bordeaux with pizza.


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Clue: Check


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Friday, November 17, 2006

Caption Contest #10

So, where do all the gays and lesbians live? Apparently, the majority of those who state they are gay, lesbian, or bisexual, live in San Francisco and Seattle! Seriously. I am not sure why people are surprised by this. I mean, the Village People and the Pet Shop Boys have both told us to Go West for decades.


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A patient recently asked me if I play rugby. I couldn't contain myself and burst out laughing.


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Well, it has been almost two weeks without a caption contest, so we need to remedy that. Yes, it is that time again. So far, in the battle of the caption, Shanna Compton leads the pack with 4 wins. Aaron Smith follows with 2 wins. Are you going to let these people win again? So, time to flex that muscle (mental, of course). Time for Caption Contest #10. And as always, Jacob selects the winner (when he feels like it).





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Clue: The Smiths


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Thursday, November 16, 2006

They Want to Make Us Disappear

So now it is wrong to archive information and papers? Well, I guess it is when they document the struggles of gay people. I know I will be writing to the Library of Congress about this. I hope some of you will as well. Frank Kameny was fired from his government post 50 odd years ago for being gay. He has been a tireless activist for gay rights. And now, now when they want to archive his papers, these people are mounting a hate campaign. When will people learn that you cannot hide the truth. Just because you hate us, doesn't mean we will disappear. I for one will not let that happen. And there are many like me out there!

Wingnuts Gear Up for Hate Campaign Against Library of Congress for Accepting Papers of Pioneering Gay Activist Frank Kameny (from Towleroad)

NBA and the Number 4

Nathaniel Mackey is this year's winner of the National Book Award in Poetry.

I have to say I am more than a little surprised, which is a good thing. I assumed Louise Gluck would win.


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I know this is crazy, but I have what might be a new poem starting in my head. I have a few images already and about three lines. We'll see. For all I know it is a false start, especially since I have already written nine poems this year. This has been one of the best writing years for me in a long time. I go for years and years getting 4 poems done per year. Why this is happeneing this year is beyond me. I started my own medical practice this year, moved, got married!, etc. If anything, this should have been the year where I didn't even get 4 poems done.


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Four more work days (including today) before we fly out of town.


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Clue: Guardian


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Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I heart San Francisco

Why do I love San Francisco so much? Tonight, while driving home from the Embarcadero, Jacob and I saw a bistro we hadn't been to in ages in lower Pac Heights (aka upper Filmore) and decided to stop in becase we didn't feel like cooking. There were dragon rolls (crispy shrimp, smoked salmon, avocado, shiso), arugula salad with pickled onions, green asian pears, and Laura Chenel goat cheese. Then there were eggplant ravioli with goat cheese and leeks and a miso drizzled filet served with tempura vidalia onions. Add to this a Rafanelli Zin, and you can understand why we love this city. And best of all, we ate this amazing meal wearing jeans and t-shirts and fleeces. In Philly, we would have had to wear a suit!


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Mr. Bertrand now owns a trendy double breasted Donna Karan tuxedo. Best of all, we got it a ridiculous discount. Who says the gay discount doesn't come in handy?


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Clue: Aix en Provence


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Modulations and Machinations

I have been grading since about 8:00 AM. A huge chunk is done so I am taking a quick break. The semester has come to a close, so I am also busy doing evaluations and end of term paperwork. I like the fact the semester at Warren Wilson ends just before Thanksgiving. But then again, it starts in July, so it is probably the same length of semesters elsewhere. We just start earlier.


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The last poem I drafted finally feels finished, for the most part. Did some slight tinkering and adjustments last night. Ah, the subtleties of Tone that can be modulated with just the slightest change of diction. It still surprises me.


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If there is one trait in myself I could eliminate, it would be the quickness of my anger. I know I am better about this than when I was, say, 22, but I still need to learn better mechanisms of reining it in.


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In the dream last night, I was making origami birds out of green leaves. The leaves were so green they were almost black.


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I am preparing to re-read a big chunk of Cavafy. It is time. The time has come again.


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Clue: Poltergeist


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Tuesday, November 14, 2006

For the Love of God

I found this via Charlie:












E.E. Cummings!

You scored 58 Demeanour, 86 Debauchery, 37 Traditionalism, and 85 Expression!

You are generally good-natured, but you have a dark side, and your dark side wants to party. You make your own rules and say what's on your mind. You love life, but you don't take shit from anyone. You have strong political opinions, but you probably think about sex more often than just about anything else. Your masterpiece is "Somewhere I have never traveled, gladly beyond".
















My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 99% on Demeanour
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 99% on Debauchery
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 99% on Traditionalism
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 99% on Expression




Link: The Which Famous Poet Are You Test written by Torontop on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Rumors and the Need to Abolish

I was recently asked, in an email, about insecurity and doubt. Well, of course there is insecurity and doubt. It is almost essential for artists to have these things. Without them, it might be difficult to grow, difficult to have the drive to be better. I know I swing back and forth between feeling confident about my work and feeling like an utter failure.


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There sure are a lot of books coming out in 2007. And maybe it is because I have a second book coming out that I am noticing, but it sure seems like there are a ton of second books coming shortly. Even here in the blogosphere, lots of second books. I can't speak for others, but I know I am excited, not just for my book but for many of these books.


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It is amazing to hear the rumors come back to you: in my case, the ones that portray me as an angel or a demon. No one is either. No one is both. Always there is interpretation. You offer someone something and one person thinks you an angel for doing so. The other thinks you a demon for offering so little. Such is life I suppose. What I can tell many of you is don't expect senior poets to simply help you. They don't. I won't lie and say certain senior poets didn't help me when I was starting, but they were few and far between. And they offered me help with things out of the blue, sometimes very small things. In other words, don't EXPECT people to help you. Don't expect someone to just decide to publish your poems or your book just because they know you or like you as a person. It almost never happens like this.


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The new guidelines for submission to NER are up on the website now:

Effective immediately, we no longer accept simultaneous submissions in poetry. We consistently respond to poetry submissions within twelve weeks. After twelve weeks have passed, you may query as to the status of your submission; e-mail queries are preferred, but you may also query by mail (include SASE) or phone.


It took me 11 years to get simultaneous submissions abolished at NER. 11 years. Well, no more sim subs. It is eating up too much of our staff time, and for what? We are not the New Yorker, we respond to 95% of our submissions in under 12 weeks, many times under 8 weeks! We receive 45,000+ poems a year now and still only publish 65-80. When I started at NER 11 years ago, we received 11,000 poems a year.



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Clue: Pour Les Yeux


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Monday, November 13, 2006

Complication

Josh Weiner is a poet I admire because his poems are intelligent, well-written, amazing things. He may well be the smartest poet of my generation, at least within his poems. His new book, From the Book of Giants, is now out from the University of Chicago Press. You should definitely check it out. He is the real thing.


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This week, over at the Poetry Foundation blog: Major Jackson.


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Sadly, I think I would give H.D. a hard time if she were one of my students. I think I would chide her about creating pristine little catalogues of images. I think I would be demanding of her, would want her to complicate it a little. This is weird. I used to read and enjoy H.D. when I was much younger. Now, I read those poems and feel less than impressed.


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I wish Thanksgiving were this week!


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Clue: Skittery or Flarfist, darling


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Sunday, November 12, 2006

John Edwards?

It is unlikely that John Edwards reads my blog but if, by any chance, he does, then I want him to know:


JOHN EDWARDS, I WANT YOU TO RUN FOR PRESIDENT IN 2008!!

A Sketch of a Sketch

Finished up grading this morning. Also finished up some other work on the book galleys. Tinkered for an hour on the last poem I drafted. Feeling contemplative. Must sit down shortly and finish up some NER work. And then I need to sit down and start reading book manuscripts. I need a weekend day to do nothing. I must start saying "No" more often.


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On my desk right now: 2 separate cups of coffee (why? I have no idea); calculator; stacks of drafts of poems; digital camera; postage scale; log sheets for submissions; a bottle of mylanta (for the ulcers the coffee will give me); a mini-stapler; a really old issue of POETRY; and even older issue of VOLT; four cheap ink-gel pens; two very expensive fountain pens in a cabinet (where are my other fountain pens since they aren't in this cabinet?); a sketch of a Da Vinci sketch; stamps (old 37-cent ones); a postcard of Sarah Manguso's Siste Viator; a ticket stub for Mahler's Fifth at the San Francisco Symphony; a printout of my practice's income and expenses from July; an article on post-mastectomy radiation therapy looking at lymph nodes and extracapsular extension of tumor; a letter from Geri Doran when she was in Ireland; an old paystub from March; a sheet of directions on how to use La Therapie facial products in conjunction with each other; a copy of Strand's Man and Camel; and the list goes on and on... What is on your desk? Come on, tell us. Inquiring minds want to know.


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Sometimes, I think it is better to ignore your friends and their various bits of advice.


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Clue: Black Tie


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Saturday, November 11, 2006

Ready to be Shamed

Click click click, that is all one can hear in this house today. Click click click click clickety clickk clickkk. Jacob is in his studio on his computer writing a piece for solo cello and orchestra. I have listened to the first 40 or so seconds of it. It is dark, soulful, and tinged occasionally with a Byzantine, almost middle-eastern sound, an ornament left floating about that dark and mournful cello and bass background. Even the bassoon and contra-bassoon sing that dark song with the bass and cello. And over here, in my studio, I have been proofing the final galleys of book. I am now done. Wouldn't you know I found a mistake I should have caught from the first pass! And this error is my own fault. I could have screamed. Other than that, the script is clean, very clean. And I have been busy revising stuff as well. Now, to grade and read submissions.

In Jacob's studio, the clicking is slow at times, furiously fast at others. He doesn't realize but he is humming things at times. When I sneak down the hallway and peek into his studio, I see music all over his desk. He is writing stuff on paper and on the computer screen. He is completely engrossed. I now think I understand why he says I look a little scary when I am deep inside a draft. There is nothing between him and the music right now. Nothing. Nothing else exists. And this makes me happier than I can explain here. It reminds me why we make art, why we put ourselves in such a space of vulnerability. It is this moment, this moment of being inside of it, that we crave. It is like a drug. It is being absorbed in the moment of creation, the moment where we can all be gods. And those gods must be Greek, immortal and powerful, but filled with flaws, ready to be shamed once what they have done is found out by the world at large.


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Still running lines of John Clare's around in my head. And I keep imagining Clare and O'Hara as lovers. No, not physical lovers, but the kind of friends where the friendship moves to the next level, to a level usually reserved for those who have shared their bodies and lives with each other. In this case, their minds and their work. Clare and O'Hara would have been amazing lovers. Each would have benefited the other. Each would have drawn the other out of their familiarities. I know this is crazy talk, but I cannot help it.


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I hope to God the resort we are staying at in Vegas for Thanksgiving has $5 craps tables! I am in need of craps play!!


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Who is our Contemporary Master of writing again and again about not having anything to write about? There is most definitely a poet who can wear that distinction on his sleeve. This isn't a slight. The poems are gorgeous.


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Found these lines this morning in an old notebook:


Should I look him in the eye? Should I
bury my head in the pillow and pretend,
in sleep, that nothing has happened?

Is it the pond out beyond the dirty balcony
or the ripples of his own abdomen
that he prefers?


Gag! Double Gag! No wonder this draft died. What the hell was I thinking? And yet? And yet? I still hear something there. So there must be a reason I saved these lines. But they need tempering. They need another story. They need another life, another speaker. They need too much. I was tempted to throw them away, but I can't. In times like these in the past, I held on to such lines. Years and years later, the poem found them. And this may be exactly what I need to do. Hold them. For God's sake, I have been unintentionally holding them for 6 years.

Ah, intent. Isn't that the ultimate in revisionist history?


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Clue: Foolish consistency is the Hobgoblin of little minds....


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Friday, November 10, 2006

Pornography

Well, it sure is nice to see my name on this list. Congrats to Paul Otremba, who is also on the list. I had no idea.


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Some time ago, I talked about Jason Schneiderman's hilarious poem, Pornography II. I cannot remember now if I ever posted it. Anyway, here it is:



PORNOGRAPHY II: THE CAPACITY TO LOVE


These naked girls really love animals
in ways that I just don't. My therapist
thinks it¹s because I never had pets
growing up. These naked girls must have
had pets, but not clothes. That's how
they grew with the capacity for animal love
in the buff. I only grew up with the capacity
for didacticism and fear, bitterness,
the ability to judge myself by what I can't do.

Like what that girl is doing with a donkey--
I couldn't do that. I'm not flexible enough
or dedicated enough. My therapist wants me
to work things out with my Dad, but really,
I think I need the unconditional love of a dog
or monkey. I think that's what would set me
on the right path. Did these girls have weird
displaced Oedipal complexes that they somehow
brought to their afterschool job at the stable?

I'm sorry, women have Elektra complexes.
I'm the one who couldn't get it Oedipal.
If I had managed an Oedipal complex,
I would get to be straight, but gay as I am,
I'm not gay enough to take a donkey-cock

like that. My therapist says I'm a narcissist,
and I guess it's true, because that girl's
fucking a donkey and all I can talk about
is myself.


--Jason Schneiderman


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And now that there is a flyer for book signings at AWP, you can get a sneak peek at my new author photo:





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The Low Life

There is nothing like finding out, at 3 pm, that you are supposed to be present at City Hall that night for a benefit/awards dinner. Yes, I was dog tired yesterday afternoon and had to race home, don a tux, and then head down to City Hall with Jacob. Total madness. And my schedule for work today looks hellish. I can only pray it is one of those days where the schedule looks bad but it all goes smoothly.


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Someone emailed me to say I don't talk about poetry enough for this to be a Poetry Blog. Well, that is absolutely right! But I have never said this was a poetry blog. In fact, I have said the opposite. Do I talk about Poetry and poetry-related things? Yes. But I also talk a lot about other things as well. So, no, this is not a Poetry Blog a la Ron Silliman or others more devoted to discussing poetry and poetry stuff. Next question?


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I have decided that my next book of poems will be titled "Whore."


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After 45 years of cooking Thanksgiving dinner for 18-25 people, Jacob and I are bagging on Thanksgiving this year. Well, at least the cooking/dinner party for a million people. Yup, this year we are meeting my parents and his parents in Vegas for Turkey day/weekend. We already have reservations for Thanksgiving Day dinner at one of our favorite places. Vegas at Thanksgiving is great. Pretty low-key compared to other holidays there.


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Clue: No, No. That wasn't a question...


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Thursday, November 09, 2006

Pleasure Dome

We made it back in one piece. I am still amazed at how a day of flying across the country can leave you as tired as an entire day's worth of work.


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Received the final galleys of The Second Person this morning. It is due back in one week. This is it, the third and final pass. I quickly skimmed through it. It looks really good.


***************************


I am still both in shock and overjoyed that the Dems took the House and now looks as if they took the Senate. I want change. I am hoping for change.


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Where Alph the Sacred River ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea


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Clue: Tired


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Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Haywire

The "new" look at The Muse was not intentional. I removed the Go Vote stuff from the top of the blog and the whole thing (template) went haywire. Alas.


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Jacob and I are in Houston. He is busy working on one of his compositions (the string quartet, I think) and I am checking email and preparing to re-enter my usual life.


***************************


Thinking a lot about John Clare.


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Saw "The Devil Wears Prada" on the flight from Philadelphia to Houston. I was told it was funny. It was not funny.


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Jacob surprised me in Philadelphia by getting the sort of newly released remastered "Lion in Winter" on DVD. It remains one of my favorite movies of all time.


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Dreamed last night I was slowly rising off the ground again and was freaking out that people would notice. I have had this dream for almost 20 years! I still don't know what it means.


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Clue: Triple Time


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Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Get Out and Vote!

Please go out today and vote. Please.


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I am still in Philadelphia. Heading home to San Francisco tomorrow. Ate a beyond heavenly meal last night at Le Bec Fin. It was the kind of meal where you are stuffed but you don't want it to end. It was among the best meals I have ever had in my life!


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Thinking about re-entering a poem of mine I drafted a few weeks back. I can see the flaws now. I just need to get back into that space where I can do something about it.


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Just got proofs for two poems of mine that will run in Winter issue of Virginia Quarterly Review.


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Clue: Fountain


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Monday, November 06, 2006

Revisionist History

Sorry I have been absent a few days. I am in Philadelphia for a Medical Meeting, actually for the meeting of my specialty's society. I really didn't want to come to this meeting, but I had to come because I am the Vice-Chair of Membership. Next year, I start a two-year term as Chair of Membership, so I am here. It is a little colder here than I would have expected.


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Jacob is busy revising his string quartet and cleaning up some other compositions. He is applying to formally study composition at the San Francisco Conservatory. Very exciting. He has been furiously writing since we have been here. Nice to hole up in a hotel room and write. How very Rick Barot of us! Well, not me. I am not writing, just running around to lectures and meetings.


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The good thing about these kinds of meeting is running into people you haven't seen for a while and getting caught up. Radiation Oncology is a small enough field that it isn't hard to know or know of almost 1/3rd of the folks in the specialty.


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I am dreaming about Boston/Cambridge, dreaming with some regularity about that year when I decided to become a poet. It was a difficult year for many reasons, most of which did not have to do with writing poems. It was also the year I decided to leave Studio Art, to leave painting behind. We make such odd choices. I chose to do poetry and medicine, despite everyone telling me I couldn't. And yet, I dumped painting because I felt it wasn't possible to do poetry and painting. In retrospect, I cannot understand what was going through my head then that made this seem okay. I do play that what if game with myself fairly often. I play it a lot in anniversary years. This happens to be the year that marks 15 years since I graduated from college.


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Clue: Where the Buddha presides over a long table...


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Friday, November 03, 2006

Victor # 9

I just received, by email, the word from Jacob. And the winner of Caption Contest #9 is Aaron Smith for the following:



"Mirror, mirror on the truck, who's the stud they want to... "


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Aaron should email me to find out the two prizes from he gets to choose.


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Runner up this time is John Gallaher for: "And once again, Mitch misunderstands 'Mail Call'."


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It Continues

Well, it sure didn't take long for others to start telling the truth once the allegations were made. People like Haggard, etc. make me sick. You want to stay in the closet? Fine. But don't use that closet to then hurt your gay brothers and sisters. That kind of self-hatred is never fine, and when it hurts the rest of us, it is just plain hatred. I might point out this is the guy in that scary Jesus Camp documentary who spends a ridiculous amount of time decrying homosexuality and detailing why it is a sin against God and man. So it is a sin for the sheep but not for the shepherd? Whatever. Hypocrite.


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Jacob and I are off to Philadelphia at the crack of dawn on Saturday. I have a medical conference there. It sounds cold there already.


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Yes. I know I am biased. But so are you...


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Clue: Toast


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Thursday, November 02, 2006

The Hypocrisy

So, what does one of the most influential evangelicals do when he isn't preaching intolerance for homosexuality, when he isn't spearheading campaigns to block same-sex marriage in Colorado and elsewhere? This evangelical, who supposedly gets a return call from our President within 24 hours of leaving a message, is alleged to have been having a sexual affair for the past three years with a male prostitute. Gee, why am I not even a tad bit surprised. It is time to wake up to the hypocrisy America. Time to wake up. Time to vote the religious rights influence out of our government, because this kind of thing is what many religious leaders are about: deception. Just look at history folks. Just look at it.

Le Monde

Mr. Maxton gives us the "full monty" on your bank, your Visa card, and things they don't really want you to know. Dear God, that boy is filled with information!


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I have been nudging Jacob toward selecting a winner of the caption contest. So far, no announcement yet. Fabulous prize at stake. This time the winner gets a choice of prizes.


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The Spa in THEhotel at Mandalay Bay is named THEbathhouse. I find this hysterical.


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Are men with traditional names from the Bible stronger? This is what I am told, but is this true? Stronger how?


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Clue: Le Monde


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Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Woe to Tina and the Dead Man

Aaron wants you all to confess. He wants you down on your knees in the confessional. Okay, that came out a little stranger sounding than I wanted it to sound.


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William Logan (in his blogging stint over at the Poetry Foundation) writes:

Rather than choose one poem by a younger poet, I'll say that I've liked some work by Morri Creech, whose second book, Field Knowledge, was just published by Waywiser. Other young poets I could mention had the misfortune of being my students, and I have a terrible rule that prevents me from reviewing them or giving them grants or awards. Or mentioning them when it might seem that mere fondness guided me.


Misfortune? Misfortune????!! I don't know about other former students of Logan, but I consider it a blessing he doesn't review former students!


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I spent the last however many hours readings close to 300 poems. What I learned:

1. There seems to be a renaissance of folks writing poems where there is some main character that we are supposed to find interesting. I saw no less than 6 submissions where the poems were as follows: "Tina Finds a Beetle in the Sink," "Tina at the Piano," "Tina Losses Her Panties," etc. Six different poets submitted poem cycles like this. Just substitute another name for Tina. Look, I barely survived Marvin Bell's "Dead Man." The only way I could survive Tina is if she were the Tina dahling in Mommie Dearest!

2. Poets are still woefully in love with the present tense, even when it works against what they are doing in a poem. Even when it murders their poem!

3. Poets are in such a rush to send submissions that I have become "C. Dale Baker" (I bet these poems also went to Kenyon Review), Alice Qyoung (me merging with Alice Quinn), Willard Young (Southwest Review?), and my favorite: "C. Dole Pineapple."

4. Poets love the word "silence." I found it in 38 poems today. 38! Talk about collective unconsciousness. What are the odds?

5. Sometimes poets you think are awful, dreadful really, will surprise you with a gangbuster poem! My socks are off, baby. Twice today, my socks were clear across the room!


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I have a line by Clare in my head. I keep manipulating it, changing the nouns, changing the verbs. I have no idea why I have this line in my head. John Clare is hott.


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Clue: Perspicacious and pernicious...


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The Internal Clock

I have a full day ahead of me filled with reading submissions and grading. Haven't decided which to do first. Grading will necessitate 6-8 hours of work for me. Submissions will require a good 4-5 hours. Will decide after coffee. I prefer to do each in solid chunks rather that flip-flopping between the two. You get more work done in a shorter time that way.


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The time change affects me more and more each year. I am still not functioning right. My time and internal clock is a little off. I am like a cylon; I am like a machine in time. I never wear a watch. I check my cell phone or pager if I have to do so. I know an hour instinctively (the length of time for a new consultation). I know 15 mins (a follow up). I know 50 minutes (a lecture). I know 90 minutes (a discussion class). I know, almost instinctively, what time it is. So, every time the time switches, it messes up my own clock. I spend longer and longer, each time it happens, trying to recalibrate. I wonder how common this is. Do you have trouble with the time change thing?


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I have not yet gotten my absentee ballot from the State of California. I am getting nervous. We head off to Philadelphia for a Medical Conference on Saturday morning and will be there until Wednesday next week. I really need to vote. I may have to call and see if I can go vote early. In SF, only absentee voters can vote early at City Hall. But I am not, apparently, an absentee voter yet.


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Have you entered the caption contest yet? What are you waiting for?



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Clue: Swingline


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