Webbish6

At May 12, 2007
By Jeannine Gailey
In 32 Poems, Juliana Gray, top five songs
1

Lest you think all I do is complain, a new post, in which I talk about other people and things:

As I was asked multiple times for the five songs meme (I did answer on Deb Ager’s blog) I came up with some more songs, these a bit more off the beaten track, perhaps:
–“Dark Angel” by essence
–“Blue” by Angie Hart
–“I Think I Can” by j-pop band The Pillowz
–“Honey Don’t Think” by Grant Lee Buffalo
–“Innocent One” by Michael Penn

Check out Shanna Compton’s “best essay ever written on poetry blogs” up at the Poetry Foundation.

I am looking at the new 32 Poems, guest-edited by Carrie Jerrell. I really liked a lot of the work in this one, no real surprise there as I usually like 32 Poems. I saw a poem by an old friend from my MA workshop days at U of Cinci, Juliana Gray, who took on a pop culture theme with a twist in “Psycho.” In our workshops, Juliana had this great poem about Lois Lane hanging off a cliff that I’ve never forgotten. Anyway, check this one out – here are a few lines from the end of “Psycho:”
“…The nervous boy
lets for the breath he’s held and chews
another piece of the candy corn
he keeps in his pocket. Like a child,
our Norman: so dutiful, so sweet.”
Good stuff, right?
I also really enjoyed Dan Nester’s “Queries” and Stephen Priest’s “After Jacob.”

Also still need to blog about the 2007 Rhino and Jessica Smith’s Organic Furniture Cellar. Quickly, before everything I own disappears into boxes…

At May 07, 2007
By Jeannine Gailey
In Seattle Real Estate Sux, wet cat attitude problems
2

Note: Real Life Taking Over Other, More Interesting Lives

Not writing. Not really reading. End of current rental: May 30. Just driving from one bland rental space to another, every day, until they are all a blur, climbing across stairways and walkways, yards and driveways, trying to find a place 1. that allows cats, 2. that doesn’t have holes in the floor, 3. Doens’t smell like something died in it, 4. Is within our price range. Note to self if self ever gets time-travelling ability: don’t move to Seattle seven years ago. You’ll never be able to afford it!
My asthma’s been acting up, etc. Not sleeping well. Also, freelance work has overwhelmed me, just when I’m in the midst of everything else.
So, don’t expect anything witty or bright or interesting from me until after I’ve moved. I’m in guarded survival mode. Tauruses like stability and routine. So, expect me to be mean as a wet cat til I’m entrenched anew.

Sorry for the complaints. I will be back to being happy poet girl at some future time. Or I’ll be one of those crazy homeless people eating grass. One or the other.

Tagged! By Mary B! And there’s no way out!
Say someone asked, “I kind of like poetry, but I don’t know anything about contemporary poetry. Who should I read?”
No blog friends. No real-life friends. No real-life mentors. Alive as of this writing.

1. Louise Gluck
2. Margaret Atwood
3. Denise Duhamel
4. Dorianne Laux (yup, breaking a rule, I don’t care, she would have been there had I not worked with her, etc.)
5. Rita Dove
6. Lucille Clifton
7. Carol Ann Duffy
8. Dana Levin
9. Beth Ann Fennelly
10. Marie Howe
11. James Tate
12. Brigit Pegeen Kelly
13. Ilya Kaminsky (another slight rule break, but I had to fit another guy on my list!)

If you haven’t been tagged yet, go write up your list and be quick about it!

At May 02, 2007
By Jeannine Gailey
In Autobiographical Poetry, dental pain, Peter S. Beagle, Wicked Alice
2

After some exciting dental work today (two new fillings for cavities underneath old fillings) I have no energy to do any of the work I’m supposed to be doing – an interview, a freelance assignment, Crab Creek stuff. I’m barely up to television! Yet here I am on the blog…

I rarely write autobiographical poetry, and when I do, I probably won’t admit that it is. That’s just how I roll. However, now, I can say, I have an autobiographical poem up on Wicked Alice right now in the Spring 2007 issue. Don’t just read it for the possibilities of emotional pornography, though – the issue is a great collection of edgy poems! (Full disclosure: I was never in med school, only pre-med, but we did get to sit in on the dissection of cadavers the day they got into the heart. Practically autobiographical.)

On the night of my birthday, I went to see Peter S. Beagle, author of The Last Unicorn and A Fine and Private Place, among other books. He read a long story about sinister wine and then played the guitar and sang two songs he had written. He’s about my Dad’s age. He also dropped a Buffy reference casually during his Q&A, which will make me love him even more forever. I heart Peter S. Beagle.

This sunny morning I turn 34. This weekend I:
–visited open houses in the hope of finding a place to live (disappointing, ugly, and expensive. Sigh.)
–visited the zoo to see the new Sumatran tiger cub (cute!) (and also saw adorable foxes – blue and Artic, as well as fennec – and the red panda.)
–started packing up books
–discovered a beautiful park with a sandy beach in Ballard called Golden Gardens, it was packed because it was sunny and beautiful. I also had a red velvet cupcake at the Ballard cupcake shop. Love Ballard, cannot afford anything remotely livable there. Unless someone donates me a place to live? Anyone?
–scanned newspaper listings for jobs and places to live – some more
–avoided doing anything poetry-related

Tonight I’m going to see Peter S. Beagle, author of The Last Unicorn, give a talk on dialogue and read. Should be fun!

My husband has ordered a small ice cream cake (chocolate, with black cherries and whipped cream) for my birthday. I haven’t had one of those since I was eight. I hope it tastes as good as I remember!

Also: to celebrate the last day of poetry month: The World’s Tiniest Dog, Dancer – click on the first video pic link to see him hopping around in the grass (kawaii! as they say at my local anime shop)