I’ve been having trouble writing truly good new work lately. I think I may be overwhelmed by my work and personal lives. Work in a bad way (ain’t it always the way?). My personal life is overwhelming in a good way though (so don’t freak out). There are a few things I’ve been sketching out that have promise, but both need work.
It’s raining and I want to sleep on a hammok on a covered porch. Instead, I am typing at the library. A guy somewhere behind me has a phone that keeps going off. The ringer is a loud song. Even the kid playing internet games behind me thinks that this is rediculous. Everytimt that phone rings, he turns around and stares at the person behind us as if they are an idiot.
Modern libraries are more like daycare centers for older children than book lenders. Parents keep coming in to retrive their children. They’ve been here since school let out. I sometimes see clients here. They find it interesting that I choose to use the library.
I love to run in this weather, the feel of sweat is barely noticible. It does not sting your eyeballs or hurt or itch because it is instantly diluted. I need to get out there.
I’ve been working on two poems in particular. One is about the difference between being a gay and a straight couple walking down the street holding hands. The other is about rain. There is also another surfacing about the pressure to write a poem. I’m working, just not visibly.