From the random file…

There may be nothing more self-indulgent than writing an artist statement. Lynne wanted one a few months back and I could not do it.

“My work tries to heal the sick and walk on water.”

“In my poems, I try to get laid as often as possible.”

“Oscar hopes that you really love his poems or else…”

I mean, for real, what the F yo!

Pain is still mah new running buddy but (to quote the poet) ‘we makin’ prohgress’ A new Ace bandage has me at least limping fairly well. I have taken more hot baths in the last week than Cleopatra. I wrote a fairly honest and deep entry last night on Eliel’s Sidekick Ver. 2.0(!) and tried to post it up. It didn’t make it.

The universe says I should remain distant and impersonal on the Blog. Who am I to disagree?

The Acentos crew has another gig this Tuesday. Ima try a different set than Normal in that I am going to switch around the order of the poems and see what happens. I may also throw in Capicu as well. We shall see.

In memorizing Espada’s poems I have realized that I could not write that poem until I have been really struggling for the longest time. It’s a poem from the voice of a soldier that has seen too much but still goes on. I have not seen enough.

I am enjoying how things are falling into place. Three years ago, I thought I had an outside chance to make a Slam team. Then I believed I was ready for uppercase before I really was. Ditto for some feature opportunities. There is a memorable bomb that happened at Swift Bar. Mah boy Tom, who rarely goes to readings, came along with me to this one. When it was over he looked over at me and stumbled on his first four words. “I know. It sucked.” Things are getting into better focus now. Three years and I feel like I can hold my own. Three years from now, Ima look at this entry and laugh.

During a game of Truth or Dare last week I posed the question- What would you say to “the one that got away” if you were to see them again?

Eventually the question was thrown back to me.

“Was it worth it going back to your husband?”

I have a new poem about the other affair that I had. I like it a lot.

Perhaps I’m starting on my introspective phase… Perhaps not.

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1 Comment

  1. I said to the one who got away: let’s have coffee. And we did. And then, I told her everything I should have. I’ve had 5 years to think about it, after all. Since then, we’ve said a lot without saying much, save for the touch that says everything.

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