poetry.

my favorite barista said that i was in one of his dreams the other night. we were walking around the city. looking for books. i pictured us together on the sidewalk wandering through east side streets, placing found books in our bags. when he dreams of me, he thinks of books. "so when can i get your poetry book?" he asked me then. i'm working on it. girl scout's honor. the hold up is the cover design and submitting the right size word doc. to the print shop. i admit that i also have anxiety about letting go of the work. valentine's day has been the date circled in red on my marilyn monroe calendar, pushed from september to november to february now.

writing is not a mcdonald's hamburger. the cooking is slow, and in the beginning you are not sure whether a roast or a banquet or a lamb chop will be the result. -natalie goldberg

my brain is mush at the moment. overcrowded. overwhelmed. wishing to fast forward time.