My Life as a Banjo

When one posts a photo of oneself on one's blog, why does one immediately feel like a douchebag? That aside, this is the only photo I have of my new banjo which I've really been dying to share with the world. I've been told musical instruments should have names. I've chosen to name my banjo Roddrick Muckelroy. When I heard this name for the first time, I asked Shelley if we could name one of our kids after him. She said no. Then I asked if we could name one of our dogs this. She said no. Tenatively, I'm allowed to name my banjo Roddrick Muckelroy. But the head isn't usually red, I've stuffed a red t-shirt in there to keep my neighbors from complaining. Banjo updates to come periodically. In addition to cool new banjo, also note cool new hat and cool new sweatpants.

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Drafting new poems in the Aerials sequence. Since the idea relies so heavily on perspective, I've been switching P.O.V.'s from sonnet to sonnet. Compadre Will Schutt suggested that at least one poem in the sequence has to be long ("at least a page and a half"). His reasoning: "Aerials are big, man." I trust Will Schutt. I will try to write this long poem.

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Killer opening line of the moment:

"All the toothy Frauleins are left behind:"

from Rita Dove's "The Son"

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Spent the weekend in Cleveland. Now way behind on everything. Still, for some reason, reading people's AWP reports. I've never been to an AWP. But one day, I will, I think. Denver?