June 1, 2013

Dream: I had to change clothes on the run for some reason. I was willing to do so in the middle of the street, but someone gestured to me from a big utility van. It was Ellen. She let me change in her van, while informing me that our team (she and I, I guess) had won a poetry slam contest, a victory made the sweeter because it was over my former students at Syracuse.

Opera Creations last night at a day spa in Weaverville. Beautiful catering, beautiful singing.

Dead nervous about Lincoln. Nothing I can do about it now in any case. Knowledge that there’s nothing worse than a hysterical playwright tamps me down.

Sat on the porch and wrote poems that made me weep at the time. We’ll see now by the light of a new day–

I misspelled “the” twice in one paragraph.

The ignored mock orange blooms like a hill of frost on the property line.