winning.

i recently discovered that there is a poet's seat poetry competition. (for those of you not in the know, poet's seat is the name of the tower here in greenfield. it looks like this:

anyhow, i have decided to enter this contest and win it. yes, i know i haven't written creatively in a very, very long time, but screw it, i can win this. it looks like the deadline for entry last year was march, so i've got about a month to brush up on my poetry writing skills. anyone interested in joining me on this journey? we've talked before about trying to have club online. maybe we can have little assignments. my stuffs going to be terrible (at least to start with. i'm hoping for a stroke of genius. or at least a stroke of good-enough-to-beat-the-competition.), so don't feel discouraged.
let's do this!!
ps - here is what my competition looks like.

learning about felching at atticus

The awl (which I love) has a guide to the New Yorker's slow but eventual acceptance of dirty words. The use of "felch" amused me, particularly because I remember being in the company of some of my NHWC crew when I was in the basement of atticus and I learned what it meant. Let's hear it for books...those timeless educators, and for the slow adoption of dirty words.

http://www.theawl.com/2011/05/new-yorker-profanity#more

Memo from the past to the present

I went to the Milford goodwill last night. I was delighted to discover a Norwegian sweater and then, a few minutes later, a copy of the 1996 Educational Center for the Arts Literary Magazine, "THAT'S NOT PUNK ROCK" containing my youthful scribblings. Holy coincidence. Only $1!

I take a picture on my cellphone and flip it over to look at the back...someone had identified my feet and Andrea's visage in this handwriting that looks eerily familiar:

I look through it, and then flip to the front page. The book is inscribed to an unknown recipient. I felt like I pooped in public:

It is like a strange gift of a turd that at the time I thought was a golden nugget. I was excited to see it and then it revealed youthful narcissism. I was torn between purchasing it for a dollar, and ripping out the front page. And then I did neither thing. I put it back on the shelf and walked away like a person who didn't know anything about it at all.

notes from a moldy suitcase.

monday, april 24, 2006

"you don't understand, i ate a huge sandwich" - beth

"is the phone ringing?!" - sudden & loud, robin

"that's my favorite thing to do - try to watch a movie and fall asleep." - beth

"sometimes i realize the way i'm sitting is really uncomfortable, but i'm just too lazy to move." - sr

"it must suck to be an animal in out time." - beth

[and now i am throwing that piece of paper in the garbage before i inhale more noxious mold. hope this blog is archival.]

reunion in november?

guyz, for real. let's do a reunion in november. a blitzkrieg of snax and laffs and wordz and egregious intentional misspellings! i will pilgrimage for it. will snow be involved? who can say what mother nature thinks of the nhwc.... hugz, siri lakshmi

p.s. this guy is not invited:

press: nhwc

And will you join me?

hot