If you would like for me to never shut up...

I would direct you to my Tumblr, where I spend entirely too much time. There's lots of TMI.

Uni is turning me into an old person. An old, angry, sad person.

On the other hand, should I ever gather my shit enough to publish something, it shall be reported here.

IT LIVES.

Still kicking.

Recently kicked out a piece for Cameron Summers' website. It's called Nausicaa at the Palm Frond, and if you know your Odyssey, you get what's going on.

In other news, I now have speakers for my computer in my own litte flat, which is right next to a skanky bar. Which is not to imply that the flat is not itself skanky, too.

The last round of 100 Sonnets was a bit of a fail -- only about 60 got done. But keep checking it out, because it's the numbers and not the time that are the goal for me.

Poetry! (no. 2)

So, in awesome news:  My poem Dover Crossing is live over at Goblin Fruit, who are most wonderful and lovely people and run a beautiful website. I am honored to share the pages of the Summer issue with Sonya Taaffe, Mari Ness and a plethora of other poets.

I also recently completed my 100 Sonnets project. Please check it out; I'm trying to figure out which ones are good so I can collect them into some kind of collection.

And on a less poetic note, I urge you with the greatest of hortations (a new words!) to have a look at the works of Cameron Summers, whose real life acquaintance I recently made but of whose works I have long been a fan. I highly recommend that you have a look at his newly-finished long-form project Patterns in Noise; it's all there, so you won't have to wait for the ending like some of us.

In other news, I'm at my parents' house until August, and that is about it.

Poetry!

So, my life has had a lot of poetry in it lately, what with the ridiculously-well-doing One Hundred Sonnets project (over 900 pageviews, which, for the record, is only about 300 shy of this blogs entire two-year lifespan), the generation of sonnets for that project, these awesome poetry readings, and, because of the preceding poetry reading, the honor of taking part in this, or rather, the poetry night attached thereto. It's going to be my first non-open mic reading, and I'm both excited and nervous. What do you wear for that, anyway?

I have all As. Some of them are A-s, but I can't really complain, since even with those, my GPA is up 2/100s from last semester. This isn't really important to anyone other than me, but I'm pretty psyched. (That had nothing to do with poetry.)

Also, please keep your eyes on this site that has rejected me on numerous occasions -- though always in the best of grace, and for the best of reasons -- because sometime this summer we may find that they have changed their minds a little.

April is the cruellest month...

Man, April has been rough. Pleasant, but dramatic, and then just rough. Maybe this one will be better? We'll see.

Anyway, there is now a record of the whole hot mess right here. It's "100 Sonnets" because that's how many I want to have before 15 July, for various reasons. I will probably have to train myself back to free verse eventually.

Finals are next week! Ahh!

Wolves and other cool things (Linky dinks IV)

So, my short story about the benighted Emperor Arcadius went live ysterday. You should read it! (Unless you arrived here from it, in which case... read it again?) My Greek professor approves! This is a big deal because he is a big deal.

Also, some cool things are on Bandcamp. For one, Alpha Stasis, who have shown up here in the past, have a new album out, which I highly recommend -- and it's free, so what are you losing? However, if you want to pay for music, get this album which is only $3 and very sad and pretty (think Lydia).

Please have a look, too, at my sometime-stomping grounds, The Fortnightly Review. They're doing a special series in the form of chapters from Alan Macfarlane's book on modernity and how everything you think about it is probably wrong (I think).

And in completely personal news, I was delighted to (re)discover the name of this artist, whose work I was privileged enough to see in Lugano ten years ago. The images of it neer left my mind, though unfortunately the artist's name did; I am very pleased to report that Igor Mitraj is now a name I can add to my List of Artists I Adore.

Cheap Kicks.

This is why I shouldn't be allowed to stay up this late. It's because I start doing half-assed translations of stuff, then posting them online as if they're good.

Oh well.

---

Tibullus, I.iii.83-94

And you, I pray, stay chaste, blessed chaste,
sitting in the care of that old woman.
She tells you stories and puts the lantern down
to draw ou coiling thread from full staff;
grave pensive girls sit with you in a circle
as little by little they sleep and let their spindles fall.
Then thieflike let me come, with you all unawares.
I want to seem heaven-sent to you.
Then -- just as you are, long hair unbound and curling --
meet me, Delia, run to me on naked feet:
I pray that blazing Dawn
and Daystar bear this happening to me on roan horses,
and let it come to pass.