stuff

Just finished reading Natasha Trethewey's stellar book of poems Native Guard. First book of poems of the summer for me, and it was well worth it.


_______________


It is strange to have nothing to do. Have applied for summer jobs, waiting on calls. Will call tomorrow to follow up on a few. This inbetween period could be productive, but is bogged down by the uncertainty. Graduation looms ever nearer, family coming in. Shall be interesting.


_______________


Haven't written a new poem in weeks. Plenty of them seem to visit me in my sleep, or when I am reading, but I haven't been compelled to actually commit them to paper. In some ways, this fosters the idea that they are indeed the best poems I have ever conjured. Surely. I have no way to prove otherwise.