It isn't that I have nothing to say, it's just that I'm in a really awesome place with my poetry right now, and I've spent the day banging out initial (and flawed) drafts for two new performance poems, and despite their flaws, they are exceptional detours from my usual fare, turning on personal events and real emotions I've experienced and a week ago I completed a full on, massively intense, honest to God love poem unlike anything (written and performatively) that I've crafted before.
So, it isn't that I don't give a shit about the stupid ramblings of the Hillary Clinton campaign re: Barack Obama, who if you listen to them is made of pure air and whose candidacy, if you listen to them, is merely a breeze blowing through crowds of stupid Americans, as demonstrated by their willingness to hand him victory after victory over the aforementioned Hillary Clinton.
Oh no, it is that I don't care about that bilge. And I don't care about Taylor Marsh's choking sputterings because I am in Poetry Land, that much disregarded but still shining city on a hill where I aspire to have a summer home that I will stay in even in the depths of winter.
I am thrilled that Fidel Castro has resigned, but not optimistic about any kind of quick change in conditions on the island or between my government and the new Cuban dictatorship to be installed this weekend. Le sigh. Maybe they'll execute fewer journalists now. Fingers crossed.
Pakistan is changing. Good or bad? I don't know. Kosovo is independent. Good or bad? I'm inclined to say good, but again, I don't know. Hopefully good.
But as bloggers go, I am very bad these last days. Having no special wisdom, I have crafted extensive metaphors to describe many things, but not the feeling that one must have if one has just purchased a non-Blu-Ray HD system and will now have to purchase yet another one. Bet that sucks. I'll catch up one of these days.