I'm looking forward to reading Linda Annas Ferguson's Dirt Sandwich from Press 53 this weekend. And digging into Kenneth Rexroth's mammoth collected at some point. I have to write some poems and get contracts out for the new NT issue due 9/15, too. I just got a bunch of chaps from Faux Press I forgot about till just now, so it should be a good weekend. If I can just get some alone time. Here's one of mine, which many people in the world will reenact come Friday or Saturday night. :-) It was originally published by Mikael Covey in the journal Lit Up . The Ex-Boyfriend Checks In on Saturday Night by Cell Phone Remind me never to call you again after you get home late, for the familiar fear of the deadbolt noise, the shifty creak of your linoleum floor, the way you throw your jacket over the sofa and slide from your shoes like a tap dancer long and slow, the way you rattle the bowl with beer-piss knowing that I’ll crawl between your ankles anyway, par...
Like the title says.