entry 1

6/2/14–  This summer, thinking six typed responses, 3 papers, 3 journal submissions, and Attendance and Activity.  So, 30 points for papers, 5 for responses, 10 for journal submissions, and 40 points for A&A.  Already plugging in names on the roster.  Going to keep all scores on this laptop, and the spreadsheet will be maintained meticulously.

Little Kerouac, up at 3-something, but taking a nap down here with me from early 5-something to about 6:15.  So we’re both rested, and talking, playing.  Me, the wild author of morrows, on second cup, and entertaining a third.  Why not?  Still feeling yesterday’s run, so I’m not sure how far I’ll go today.. maybe I should just run for 45 minutes.. yes, I know that’s a goal, but I have to have some vision, I’ve finally learned, at 35 [at first wrote ’45’… ugh].


7:27.  We’ll be leaving in about 30 minutes.


8:51…  Planned on sleeping as soon as I returned from delivering little Kerouac to Ms. Lisa’s, but the story told me to go into Safeway, get my morning mocha, so here I am.  Keep thinking of my 3 friends, J, Sophie, and Sam who bottled their wine yesterday, have it labeled and all.  They committed, followed through.  What I’ll today do with my short poem gathering.


9:05.  Have ten selected poems for book.  I quite enjoy looking through all the poems I’ve written, observing the changes in my attitude, voice.  Now I’m quite awake.  Thankful for the story doing this to me.  Taking a break at these 10 tracks.  May write a new one, or type the three poems I scribbled the other day in Kenwood Market lot, the day my mocha cup broke and delayed my penning.

This mocha, not so strong, and I’m grateful.  I do want to have my nap earlier if possible, so I can run for a bit.  Back to the ‘no goal’ approach.

Spilt out mocha, which i never do.  Succumbing to pull from nap.  Writing later.. and that’s all I’ll be doing, alongside digging for poems in this bloody laptop.


2:23PM–  Done with errands, now I sit to jazz and this paragraph, the poems I’m to edit, add.  Keep thinking of my friends barreling– or rather BOTTLING their wine yesterday, all 45+ css.  This day, not too stressful.  No check from the JC, but I have some funds from which to pick till Friday, when I’m gifted my meager wage-slop from the winery.  This book, and all my books.. in abnormally speeded succession.  Just like the jazz.. and if there’s the occasional mis-note, that’s what’s in the moment, babe.  That’s what’s true, what’s musical.. so rather than being ridiculed and scolded, the occasional typo will be most embraced and enjoyed.

To make a living at this, I need to never be tired, or weak, or restless.. I need always be writing, seeing images as topics, and people as stories.. like the TR Mgr character.. how readers would hate him, love him, hate loving him, but love that they have the connection to this character, his believability, his evil.