I couldn’t blog in Chicago. I was too drunk or too busy with work or too compartmentalized. No, that wasn’t it. The hotel’s internet was slow like boiled sugar. A lot of people told me their Internet didn’t work in Chicago. Didn’t work well. I think I heard the term sluggish. I heard a lot of great terms in Chicago. I heard Painbis, hip-swinging, also annihilates. Words and writers of words appeared in front of me like kicked doors, or armored saints growing day to day.
I am going to blog now; I call this:
50 Life Sentences AWP 2009
1.) I have arguments inside my compartments.
2.) Shards inside I feel the need to fill, with alcohol, rationalizations blue, interstitial fluid, food.
3.) My many Chicago meals were triangles.
4.) A goal of mine was triangles…
5.) A goal of mine was to meet Kim Chinquee.
6.) Why didn’t I take a photo?
7.) Why was I too afraid to take a photo, to seal my memory in everlasting angles, perfect ghosts, in queens and hearts of glimmer?
8.) The poker game was a ghost everyone was talking about but no one had actually seen (like sustained love?).
9.) The poker game was mystical as a flower (on the moon).
10.) Listeners at readings whoop, laugh, bloom and flutter.
11.) Listeners at readings will buy you bourbon, will buy you shots of congratulatory bourbon, and you will drink that golden sun-struck poison like a harness-maker, like a household of leaking cells, drink them all and all and very well…
12.) In the swanky hotel lobby of the Hilton, Blake Butler voiced an opinion that authors shouldn’t just pick humorous work for a reading, just to be funny, etc., and I agree and disagree: They shouldn’t pick just funny work; they should pick funny work that is also sexual.
13.) I have arguments at Abjective.
14.) I have arguments inside my compartments, my flux and flow.
15.) Why didn’t I take the photo?
16.) I can’t get my head around Chicago, my actions, non-actions, and faulty do/do not/residue.
17.) Right alongside my heart, a nick of rib bone, I keep shaking inside like the El.
18.) I was intimidated by the El then learned to observe, conform, climb aboard, overcome something, or some thought inside my skull rolling.
19.) To meet (drift and swerve) with Samuel Ligon was glacial, as in very very cool.
20.) To meet Jac Jemc was glacial, as in very, very cool.
22.) My many Chicago meals were fermented/distilled liquid.
23.) My many Chicago meals were squid, were prawn.
24.) My co-eaters were 1.) a woman who was raised in a “town” (my quotes) of 92 people, who runs marathons and swims with whale sharks; and 2.) a woman who writes drafts of poems about experience so recent (the El looping) so quickly and fine it makes me shiver.
25.) I bought sake and rode its candy-cane high.
27.) I bought a form of hesitation, medication, some other ation.
28.) I bought the poison and inhaled the poison.
29.) I bought the books; I bought the books in front of the SmokeLong table.
30.) Mary Miller signed the books.
31.) Why didn’t I know she was awesome?
32.) At my age, why don’t I know what I am doing?
33.) I read her book immediately, last night, such likable object, such simpatico of scene and non-scene (I know so well, beer cap moth-ing through air), such castles of crickets and leftover wine.
34.) Sometimes I watched, in all my hours shifting weightless.
35.) Sometimes I watched others and wanted to be with them, or be them.
36.) Sometimes, less often, I felt watched, or should I say observed.
37.) To be my age and feel lostly.
38.) To feel hesitation and unrest.
39.) the photo…
40.) Why do you think I didn’t take the photo?
43.) I felt this blue crackling in the air.
44.) I felt this moment after.
45.) Of course I took the photo!
46.) (A man can only shelter so much regret…)
47.) (I am learning.)
48.) (and now.)
49.) and now.
50.) And..well, now.