Hibernation

As I wedge in time to write poems in the morning before commuting to work, or the small break between my jobs, I find the “poem-a-day” a lot more challenging this time around.  I see poems in the mystery books I file away on dusty shelves, in the brightly colored calaveras (skulls) my students are making for Dia de Los Muertos.   As the seasons distinctly change, I feel it too.  Sometimes this means more time in bed.  Which hopefully means, more writing in bed, and not hibernation.

I’ve been flipping through Jeffrey Yang’s An Aquarium, which I hope will spark some aswang stuff.  I’ve also been reading through Letters to Poets (ed. Jennifer Firestone and Dana Teen Lomax), which is a really great anthology with the actual emails/letters between veteran and emerging poets.  It’s been helpful in thinking about The Blood-Jet, too.

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