Anyway, I've posted almost all of the poems here. As per usual, it's a mixed bag:
(last night in the dark:)
Me: I can't wait for this week to be over.
The historian: I know.
Me: At least I only have six more poems to write.Sigh.
But also as per usual, it's rewarding--if you write more, more ideas for writing come to you, and that's a fact, as in it walks, talks, and smells like a fact, even if I have no empirical data besides my own production to prove it.
But what I'm really here to say is that soon, very soon--on May 1, in fact--I will be writing blog posts again. I KNOW. I'm sure everyone has been waiting with bated breath for that to happen. Well, bated breath or whatevs, that is what's happening. On May 1. I am prognosticating, prophesying, and public service announcing it.
Poems, just in case you want a concise set of links:
(fifteen)(terrible self-pitying poem. there's always at least one.)
(twenty)(this will one day be my Prince poem. Not finished yet.)
(twenty-one)(too terrible to post--but one day it will be better. Based on some love-letters Charlotte Bronte sent to someone who did not requite her love. Tragic.)