Poetry Hangover

I had a beautiful few days at a poetry festival. My panel went swimmingly. I saw a lot of people I like, a few people I love, had some gorgeous conversations about poetry, and now I want to kill people. Not my spouse anyone in particular for breathing any reason. Just because I have no inner social reserves.

I wrote up a cheery thing for my real-life persona blog, but didn’t post it. I don’t want to dwell on the fact that I heard a thousand poets, and only one dud reading. I want to growl that Dud Reader had a book and I don’t. I want to figure out why everything is so hard to do and tolerate today.

I was a total fraud, as I haven’t been writing poetry at all. I’ve been wasting my life working very hard on The Fucker. I haven’t written a new poem in over six months. I revised a poem before I read it on Sunday morning and I was surprised I still could.

I want to think about how Famous Poet said that a lot of people give up half way through a poem and take the easy way out. She read a bunch of poems by other people that did not take the easy way out, and now I hate most contemporary literature. Fucking try harder, you hacks.

What’s your hangover?

 

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7 responses to “Poetry Hangover

  1. Well. First of all. “Not *my spouse* anyone in particular for *breathing* any reason.

    Hahahahaha. Though I’m cheering for you, too, DP.

    I’m not writing squat. I’m reading H is for Hawk and When Breath Becomes Air and lots of Sue Grafton (which my stupid f-ing ego is embarrassed to admit I love).

    That said. We are about to have some bourbon and order a pizza, so all is not lost. xoxo

    • My poor spouse has to put up with a lot of shit from me, so do cheer him on. It’s not his fault he has to breathe! Reading is almost writing and I’m reading Howl’s Moving Castle with my bourbon. So. Cheers!

  2. I glad you had a good time at the poetry festival. I was hoping you would.

    I’ve been having a bad few days here and I feel a little stupid because I’m not sure what you asked about at the end of your post, but I think it was about the work and I kind of wanted to say this out loud, so to speak: I thought I was a slacker, but my daughter used some of the nonrefundable money on her college copy card and made hard copies of some my more recent computer-bound stories. She handed me about an inch of paper and joked that she copied a book for me. I was shocked to realize I’d written so much.

    You and a few others have taught me lot about editing, so I’m about to attack it all with a pencil now. Enjoy your book. (I only saw the movie. Liked it.)

    • Thanks, Sparks!

      What a great kid! I like editing on paper. I hope you find a cozy corner or the perfect coffeeshop and get a ton done!

      The book is different than the movie in some ways, but I love having the mental images from the movie as I read. Billy Crystal as Calcifer slays me.

    • 1) I sort of work on the assumption that we are all frauds. Everyone of us. At least from the inside out. ON the outside, noone would guess!
      2) hungover? On grandchildren. Loved it while I was with them, but now have this nasty cold that one of those snotty boys gave me…

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