Why not?

I wrote a poem today. Originally this blog was supposed to get me more comfortable with sharing my work. So... since I'm not really blogging about my life lately, here's a little ditty.


I have these dreams
of doing jigsaw puzzles
and listening to Prairie Home Companion.
I would drink white wine,
and cook what I pleased,
dancing in the kitchen to the sweet sound of Garrison Keillor.
And all of these dreams, include only me.
Ne’er a curly haired boy,
smiling down at me,
eyes a twinkle,
lips whispering odes in my ear.

Instead my dreams feature myself in my pajamas
comfortable in the peace of solitude.
It is in these dreams that I feel most connected to my mother
to my beginning
to my peace.

Dad mentioned that I never post anymore. Tis true. Much apologies to my loyal readership. I just haven't felt like reporting, or writing, or stepping into the shoes of creator, rather than observer. I've been reading constantly, consuming at a crazy rate, becoming addicted to fonts and characters and plots and completion. But now I've read everything Lorrie Moore has ever written and I feel lost, waiting for the next person that will strike me like she has. If you haven't read any of her work, I recommend starting with her first collection of short stories, "Self-Help." It's an experiment in 2nd person that actually works. And oh so funny. In addition to Moore, I'm trying to get through the complete works of TC Boyle and Antonya Nelson. Nelson is a Kansas writer, born and raised in Wichita, a KU alum. It's interesting to see Kansas from her perspective. But I'm almost finished with both of them, and looking for new writers, so let me know if you know of anyone.

I'll be moving back to Manhattan in less than a month. May 20th. I start packing up my apartment, and leave Hailey after 4 years. I never want to have another roommate ever. Maybe that's where the poem's inspiration comes from. Who knows. Being back here makes me feel nostalgic sometimes. I went to Abby's choir concert at Abe Hubert tonight. Being in the gym, remembering the locker room and the sporting events, the nervous nights in uncomfortable clothes, trying not to giggle in between songs, holding my breath looking for my crush to walk in the gym unexpectedly... the whole thing makes me feel young and optimistic. Or weary. Who knows. I just remembered my freshman year, auditioning for show choir, and Ryan peeking in the choir doors, mouthing the words to the song, willing me to smile and show off, hoping that I got in just as much as I did. Little moments like that, make me remember the importance of those first relationships. The shared goals. The shared anxieties, making you feel like all of your inadequacies and awkward gestures weren't uniquely yours. Everyone was figuring it out together. I hope it's still like that.

Have I talked about Margo May on my blog before? She's a singer from Manhattan, who plays in Kansas City and Chicago now, but I love her. Her song is on my myspace profile currently, so give her a listen if you have a minute. www.myspace.com/patchouli_pancakes