My top songs on iTunes currently:
1. "Hold Tight!" Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich
2. "Hide Away," Rock Kills Kid
3. "Kiss the Sky," Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra
4. "Fidelity," Regina Spektor
5. "Landed," Ben Folds
6. "Comfortably Numb," Van Morrison
7. "Can't Get Out of What I'm into," Liz Phair
***
Last Thursday night in Carrollton, walking back to my hotel, graciously accompanied by Chad and Greg Fraser, we were stopped by a train. Which was itself stopped. And did not appear to be in any great hurry to get moving again. Cars pulled up, waited for a moment, then turned left, heading to the ancient looking wooden bridge, the planks of which move in response to the weight of a passing car. Decided to pass on that. So we waited. And waited. Which would be quite nice in spring in Georgia, except for the cold snap. Finally, the train shuddered with a surprisingly deafening blam and was on its way.
Of course, we were immediately almost run over by some drunken hoodlum on the the wrong side of the road. In passing, he yelled slurry displeasure.
***
10 poems from One More Theory About Happiness have been published, 15 if you count those that appeared in Exit Interview. I'm not sure if you do.
I haven't been very aggressive in sending out these poems but that's turning around. The manuscript is currently too long at 65 pages but that will shake out with time.
***
Hayden's Ferry Review asked me to read next year at AWP. Which is very cool. I'll also be reading for the Prairie Schooner Prize, so it looks like AWP will be that much more frantic next year. Excellent.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
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2 comments:
Sorry for almost running you over man. I would have tried to stay on my side of the road, but then I'd have had to be sober. And it actually wasn't that I was drunk. I was reaching to grab another beer from my 12-pack and it slid across the floorboard. Had to lean over and grab it. It's surprisingly hard to lean and grab AND drive safely at the same time when you're THAT hammered. Had to prioritize, you know.
P.s.-the slurry displeasure was some semblance of an apology.
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