July 1, 2014

Close, silent morning, without even a bird calling. Odd. The dark is faintly red.

Wrens have colonized the bluebird box I nailed up. Good enough.

Excellent workout at the Y. Excellent painting.

Blake has resigned and, according to Merritt, “disappeared.” His office is empty. It’s hard to imagine such a hard-won and various career vanishing like that in a few secretive weeks. Maybe Blake irritated everyone but me and I am alone in my dismay. Meeting today to work me into some of his old committee assignments.

Met Adam at the Wicked Weed (which I didn’t know existed) to meet his beautiful girlfriend Stephanie and have beers while watching the Germany/Algeria game in the World Cup, in which Stephanie was invested because she is German. Germany won in overtime. Today Adam leaves for New York, where he already has an apartment and a part in a Fringe Twelfth Night. He is prodigally gifted, hard-working, adaptable, personable, and I foresee great things for him, fast.

Important acceptance from Atlanta Review, and one of unknown significance from Kalakak, which means I have placed as much poetry this month as I did last year.

New lilies bloom, pinkish in the white. The perfume is what resonates with me.