fuck labels, anyway. so i was moping about this past week. guess it was post-publication blues. now that i have this made thing, now what. there is always the fear that i've got to let the poems stand or fall on their own. can't really articulate what i mean, except that the publication, a state i enjoy and fear at the same time, of the texts is sorta anti-climactic. no, don't expect the nobel committee to call me up. nor do i think the phone will ring from the macarthur foundation with a big, juicy grant, so that i can pay off my mortgage, quit my job, find something part-time, and just write.

ain't gonna happen. nor are these scenarios fantasies of mine. what i should do is stop bitching and mean it when i say that poetry is a gift economy, and i'd be pleased to know that my books are out in the world making homes for themselves. shit, that is more than enough.

my good friend b. is a gearhead. he loves cars and he set up a blog first generation monte carlo detailing his restoration of his beloved car. i kinda dared him to post some pics of our drive-in sorties. he did. so you'll find me fucking around there. if you wonder why he calls me 'bo' that is because it is my long-time nickname. most people call me rich, or richard, now. but my family and b. and his wife s. still call me bo.

in the mail the past couple of days got some beautifully produced chaps from logan ryan smith's transmission press. traceland by mark lamoureux, passion by larry kearney and 908-1078 by brandon brown. kearney is new to me, so i'm eager to dive right on in.

and and guillermo parra sent me a couple of things via snail mail, including a typewritten poem 'charles baudelaire'. there is a different look, feel even, to typewritten texts. to borrow a word from guillermo they are 'sculptural'. a fantasy i do have is to create a small book or journal using only a typewriter, leaving in misspellings, graphical errors and all. would anyone know if someone is still publishing via mimeo press?

and and and saw pan's labyrinth last week. dragged a friend to see it with me after work. mesmerizing, a masterpiece. del toro has created not a fairy tale so much, but tapped into myth. brutal, heartbreaking beauty.

finally, i've been enjoying gina myers' movie reviews. she usually writes about '80s flicks, esp. john hughes directed movies. having grown up with those same movies, she's inspired me to write about my own favorite '80s films. starting tomorrow night i'll begin with some classic cheese from back in the day. the cheese might stink a little. but hey spread on water crackers and washed down with a good ale it might be okay.

word to yr momma