Friday, January 07, 2005


It's hot as hell - in my apartment at least - and i'm loving it. I'm listening to Brent Shuttleworth's CD and if you don't know who he is, you should try your best to find out. I had the privelege of going to his CD release party last week and was thoroughly impressed there and the CD delivers on the promise of that. I only wish there were more tracks on the CD.

I've been also reading Calalloo (Afr American Literary Magazine) and Tracy Smith (who is a phenomenal poet) has an interview in the latest issue in which she talks about the journey of her understanding of herself as a poet, the role Modernism as a movement has played in poetry and in the evolution of the "I" in modern poetry, how it differs for African American writers and a host of other subjects. It is one of those interviews that is at once exciting, because it confirms so many things i believe, and daunting because it reminds me how much i have left to learn and frustrating because i think i'm way back. However, i plan to live an annoyingly long time, so i'm thinking i'll give myself quite some time to do all that i want to, and learn all that i need to. What i'm saying is, check out the issue. There are also intervies from Thomas Sayers Ellis and A. Van Jordan, two of my favorites, but i haven't got to those yet, but i feel confident that it'll be worth your money and your time.

(aside) my phone is dying. it's been doing things like turning off and on, on its own for a while now. i've been trying to ignore it because my contract runs out in March and i figure if i wait long enough, i'll just get a replacement phone (with an upgrade) for free. In the meantime, i have the ouija board phone, which particularly likes to turn itself off in the middle of my text messaging. I've started taking it to meaning that the universe intends that i not correspond with that person just yet, and this way i rationalize the phones behavior and refrain from pitching it against the wall (which has acted fine and has done nothing to deserve such contumely) or out the window. If i pitched it out the kitchen window, i'm bound to hit a pigeon to besides and i'm scared of the pigeons who hang out on the fire escape because they're loud and always fighting (or fucking - who can tell the difference between the sounds sometimes) and they look in at the window like they're always trying to start some shit; especially the one friggin white pigeon.

Anyway, this coming Monday i'll be slamming at Bar 13 for a chance to represent the LouderARTS Project at the Individual World Poetry Slam in Worcester, MA next month. Come see me and a bunch of other folks if you have the time or the remote inclination.



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