“Barding around” was Frost’s way of describing a poet’s itinerant life, giving readings anywhere and everywhere for your supper. “Boarding around” is the variation on Frost’s phrase that’s been running through my head lately. I’m the chair of the Mid-Atlantic Program Directors’ Caucus for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs, which means attending the annual convention is a little like being a minor sub-sub-host of a tremendous, complicated literary party. I’m not at all in charge but I will be helping with various kinds of hospitality, introducing the introducers and cruising the book fair to ask vendors how they’re doing. I’ve also organized a small reception at an alum’s nearby apartment on Friday evening, 6-7:30. Some of our current students will be there (it’s rare for an AWP convention to be so close to my little rural college), as well as alums, professors, and friends. If you’re around and want to sip beverages and nibble food with us, please let me know and I’ll send details.
I’m also delighted to be hanging out at the Poetry by the Sea table in the bookfair on Saturday from 2-3, signing copies of Radioland. I’m going to steal a friend’s idea and donate the money from any sales to the ACLU–$10 per copy or whatever you can afford (cash or check, because I don’t have a swipe thingie, or you can just promise to donate $ later). I hope you’ll stop by and say hello. Also, I hope you’ll buy LOTS of poetry from authors and editors at the bookfair who need the funds more than I do, and maybe even support the AWP with a donation, if you can. Art offers counter-truths that have never been more vital. We really need the cash-strapped organizations that support literature to remain healthy.
Finally, check out the new issue of Talking Writing. I have a couple of poems in there, one of them last year’s science fiction valentine to Chris–I hope you’ll hear the Bowie echo. And I’ll leave you with a view from my Payne Hall window sill, with orchids from a friend. Work has been seriously terrible for the last few months–really, for almost five years. Some welcome news has just mitigated that, and I’m really excited about a search we’re currently running. I feel damaged–talk about gender shrapnel!–but also have hope spring is around the corner, at last. I never would have staggered toward this finish line without the solidarity of many friends, the orchid-giver included, and I’m beyond grateful. Flowers for all of you in my sisterhood of sanity!
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I imbibe words and consume past minds. As a result, I often awake next to strange sentences and forgotten meanings.
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Into one's life a little poetry must fall
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