What Do I Get?

25 July 2005. Eugene, Oregon. 81 degrees Fahrenheit, clear skies, cool breeze. Smells like Summer. On the iTunes, The Buzzcocks. Dissertating painfully slowly (and by hand today). Tea kettle whistle. Earl Grey w/double bergamot. Coffee morning, tea afternoon. Rejected twenty or so submissions to NWR today, passed a few more (including a Cackling Jackal) onto "special." One rejection in the mail with a "sorry you were close." An email from an old friend who was at first angry, then charmed by "Wintered." The danger of writing poems for people. All the MLC poems are, in fact, good. No angry breakup poems. No unflattering portraits. Just love poems. New poem, "Field Guide" for new bird in a new tree. The crow with malice in his eyes, who watches from another tree. Well, there are different types of birds. When I get to Brooklyn, I plan on carving "Satanslim + Ginabird" into the bark of a tree. If New Max's Tavern were still the New Max's of old, I'd carve it into the tabletop, alongside the "AR+MC" that I never carved there, but wanted to. St. John's Wort 3x a day. I wonder what Tom Cruise would say? It's an herb, like cannabis, but no high. Well, no motor-function impairment. The Sonnets are shot through with violence. How to arrange it? How to make my argument work... The past few days whenever I step into the east end of my kitchen I am overcome with fatigue and/or dizziness. The green lake is awake. Julie just sent me a photo of a fortune cookie. Should I post it? I've got some cilantro around here. I'm looking for a cynical girl.