ALL QUIET ON THE SOUTHEASTERN FRONT: I'm thrilled to report that my drug dealer neighbor finally got the big picture and turned down the music and must be smoking his weed in another room. The final straw was on Wednesday when at 4:45 a.m. I awoke to bass throbbing so loud it was practically moving furniture in my bedroom. Bizarrely enough, it was Queen Latifah singing "When You're Good to Mama" from the Chicago soundtrack. Who knew that had so much bass in it...or that drug dealers liked Chicago? I'm not going to get into a lot of detail here just in case this situation goes elsewhere, but let's just say the proper authorities were involved. Ever since then...blissfully quiet in SE ATL.
We are in production at the mags, so that's been keeping me busy this past week. I've blown off invitations and events left and right to have a little peace and quiet. I'm working on drafts of old poems and have ideas for three new ones floating around in my noggin. It's funny how the poems seem to come in three's these days. The last time I sat down to write, I wrote three pieces as well. One I found scribbled in a notebook that I had totally forgotten about. I cleaned it up a bit and it looks like it might be a keeper. Funny things have caught my eye this week -- a well fed dog and his emaciated, homeless master on a windy street corner during rush hour and how there's something horribly compelling about watching live helicopter footage of cars carrying criminals to jail.
This last bit, of course, comes courtesy of the freak job who shot up the courthouse in Atlanta on Friday and killed a judge, his court reporter, a deputy, a customs agent and pistol whipped a reporter from the AJC. Heads will roll at some level after they left this 200 pound, 6'1 crazy mutherfucka alone with a 50 year old, 5 foot tall, female deputy (who was shot in the mouth, but lived) while he was out of handcuffs. Who the hell thought that was a good idea? Note to self: find any excuse possible to get out of jury duty in Fulton County.
On a positive note, I got an email today saying one of my poems will be included in the di-verse-city anthology being published in conjunction with the Austin Poetry Festival. Whoo-hoo! I'm excited about going back to Austin. It's going to be a long, fabulous weekend.
We are in production at the mags, so that's been keeping me busy this past week. I've blown off invitations and events left and right to have a little peace and quiet. I'm working on drafts of old poems and have ideas for three new ones floating around in my noggin. It's funny how the poems seem to come in three's these days. The last time I sat down to write, I wrote three pieces as well. One I found scribbled in a notebook that I had totally forgotten about. I cleaned it up a bit and it looks like it might be a keeper. Funny things have caught my eye this week -- a well fed dog and his emaciated, homeless master on a windy street corner during rush hour and how there's something horribly compelling about watching live helicopter footage of cars carrying criminals to jail.
This last bit, of course, comes courtesy of the freak job who shot up the courthouse in Atlanta on Friday and killed a judge, his court reporter, a deputy, a customs agent and pistol whipped a reporter from the AJC. Heads will roll at some level after they left this 200 pound, 6'1 crazy mutherfucka alone with a 50 year old, 5 foot tall, female deputy (who was shot in the mouth, but lived) while he was out of handcuffs. Who the hell thought that was a good idea? Note to self: find any excuse possible to get out of jury duty in Fulton County.
On a positive note, I got an email today saying one of my poems will be included in the di-verse-city anthology being published in conjunction with the Austin Poetry Festival. Whoo-hoo! I'm excited about going back to Austin. It's going to be a long, fabulous weekend.
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TJ