A summer gone, nearly. Wha’ happened?
4… It’s easy to love New York. It’s easier once you’ve been there. I’m writing this in a coffeeshop here in (sleepy?) Leslieville and my head’s still expecting American proportions in all things.
Two readings: one alfresco in Bryant Park (NY public spaces are multifaceted; our “Reading Room” within sightline of a carousel and ping pong table) and the other at St. Paul’s Chapel, which was a refuge during the 9/11 attacks and now serves as a memorial. Quite moving: it took what was once a TV event—horrific but filtered—and made it real. Rick Moody was kind enough to come up to us after the reading and shake our hands. As if mine wasn’t already shaking.
3… Interview with me posted on Maisonneuve. Linda and I did this a while ago, in fetching Besner style on a traffic island in Chinatown. The majority of interviews these days are conducted via email and polished to a sheen. Much more difficult to be articulate in your normal speaking voice. Which is my way of saying, okay, I ramble, but my heart’s in the right place.
(In my chest, slightly left of centre.)
(My left, your right.)
2… Jake Mooney makes mention of the A-grade debuts this year in CanPo. I must chime in with my admiration for Norman’s At the Gates of the Theme Park. His taut, self-deprecating, inventive takes remind me of Simic: poems that flatter the reader’s intelligence.
1… UPenn is taking over Tranter’s Jacket, to be sequeled Jacket2. Stephen McLaughlin came through town and interviewed a clutch of poets. I believe he’s crisscrossing parts of NAmerica, 60 towns in 60 days or something equally catchy, and will be posting podcasts for the January launch.
0… Trilliums came and went. I joined the ranks of poets who’ve placed behind a Solie win. But the ride was a blast.
Off.
