i cannot think of a better way to start this blog than to start at the beginning. i confess that i only started this blog because a friend of mine started a blog and i wrote a poem about him starting his blog because i was thinking about poets starting blogs and how awkward that is. then, i went to visit said friend's blog and he actually plugged my poems in one of his blog entries and i sat their reading those simple words and sort of wanting to cry. in lieu of crying, i decided to blog. my friend isn't much the weeping type. oh, i don't know. read this fucking poem.
a poet once sent an email, asking me to read his blog. i could hear him fidgeting in Mexico, sitting at a laptop with a coffee mug and more awkwardness because he's a poet writing to me about writing. he didn't know, he said. and i couldn't know for him. i could guess he wanted it to be more like blues, but nothing is blues anymore. it's Welbutrin if you're nasty, Lexapro if you want build a house in something better. chocolate cake if you're a teacher and hate being a teacher. let's just say this, ok? let's just say we filled the space with something like fake vines, chemical commando, coffee shop this or that, at least we still read something