My Point Exactly

August. 108 degrees in the shade. In an interview with Willow Springs in 2006, poet Beckian Fritz Goldberg said: "...[t]he desert hates you. It doesn't want you to live there." If you live in southern Arizona with a couple of decades under your belt, you have the right to a make statement like that. Not simply because it's true, but more accurately, because you've earned it. It's so hot out there today I opened the French doors onto the back patio and just (had the luxury) said no. It's not a Saturday; it's a Bible parable out there. I've actually had people who live elsewhere ask me if the streets melt. 

Regardless, it's been a grand summer. Lots of good poetry news on deck and forthcoming. I've learned, from a commission last year that I advertised and then which proceeded to fall through (due to lack of state funds), not to celebrate poetry news sooner than the party extending it. So while that's my approach now, just know yet again I'm overexcited by the myriad types of poetry opportunities blossoming for me now and the ones that are mounting in 2016. I will shout it out good and loud as they happen right here on these very blog pages, so stay tuned! One thing that amazes me is to say I have a booking for a big reading gig I am absolutely thrilled to be part of, way out in 2017. Booking that far in advance feels like "running with the big dogs." 

And why not, I say, why not indeed.