Happy Tuesday, sort of.
I think I've posted Wednesday confessions a handful of times. What can I day, I am exhausted and overworked. I'm lucky I can remember my name these days. Onto the confessions ... the ones I started yesterday.
We have officially entered the silly season for poets: April. As much as I love National Poetry Month, it comes at a time when many of us who teach are trying to wrap up final lessons and grading. Along with the Mass Poetry Festival, I am FLAT OUT. Don't expect me to have a coherent conversation until the second week of May. Seriously.
This past weekend I participated in the Boston National Poetry Marathon at the Boston Public Library. This is one event where I never get to see as many poetry performances as I would like. This year I brought my kids with me to my reading. Occasionally I bring them to readings and events but I don't do it often--I know their limits. But it was nice having them in the audience because I read a few poems about them from my second book, Misery Islands.
My favorite part of the event was when they told me how proud they were of me. Caught me completely by surprise. Ella said that because I am a poet I never have to retire. Very, very sweet. What she doesn't know is that because I'm a poet, there's no way I can afford to retire (hee hee hee!).
I am keeping up with the PAD challenge but I am a few days behind. Taking the advice of a friend, I'm writing poems daily but waiting until the weekend to type them up. It takes some of the pressure off of me to have something completed, but allows me to work at a steady pace. Can't wait to spend a few hours at Starbucks this weekend with a venti hot chocolate and a stack of poem drafts. Heaven!
Happy Wednesday, folks!