Maybe I'll write a screenplay about a bunch of old Boomer friends who get together for a reunion, maybe an annual barbeque or something. The evening is late and they are swapping stories and joking about getting "the band" back together again. Only, one of the group is more drunk or high than usual, and when one of their kids starts ragging on ( Read more... )

I think it is probably harder to write Decadent verse now than a century or a century and a half ago. Vampires and lesbians won't shock anyone. No one gets TB anymore. No one drinks absinthe with their black coffee, no one goes mad, no one commits suicide, no one converts to the Catholic Church. Or if they do, I haven't heard about it. But I' ( Read more... )

Don't believe the hype. It is not easy to write a villanelle. At least, not if you basically gave up rhyme long ago. I think I got one, though. This is, of course, a draft. I haven't settled on punctuation or polishing. The words seem pretty settled, though.

i dont know why she would not see ( Read more... )

If I was still the story writing type, I'd write a story about a young, homeless Palestinian kid living on the streets of Jerusalem who, desperate for something to eat, eats leaves off some scraggly-looking, unattractive plant, which turns out to be the Tree of Life and renders him immortal...

Officially rejected by Poetry magazine.

According to my poetry journal, I hadn't written a poem in six months. Discounting reworkings of translations and the self-consciously bad, I had written a poem since last July, nearly nine months. Perhaps it is concidence, but I changed my meds a couple of weeks back, and now I've written a number of poems and have a bunch of fragmants gestating ( Read more... )

You know that feeling when, at the end of a trip, you had fun, but you're also glad to go home, because you miss those things that home has that you miss, and nowhere else really has?

Kinda wish I did.

Obviously, if they didn't mean equal parts, they would have named it a gin and tonic and tonic and tonic or something.

It occurred to me in bed last night we have now been living apart about as long as we lived together.

This one won't be going to Poetry ( Read more... )