reading

Nobody tells you how to go about the actual daily life of a poet. I had lazily always figured it would “just happen,” and never gave it much thought. So I take a stab at it…

Read Louise Glück’s Meadowlands and the new Nikki Giovanni collection, and bought a plain old large notebook, of the school variety. I don’t think many working poets use those hand-tooled leather journal jobbies. Got out a good poem, too.

I just rather wish it had felt like work, so I could have that sense of accomplishment that comes with having stopped doing something unpleasant.