January 26 2013

The Near Daily K

It’s 4:30 am. Dylan and I are wide awake. My dog is in the corner of this room, that I call my office, staring up at me from the floor. I don’t know what Dylan would do if I wasn’t in his world. Joan says that when I leave the house he whines the whole time that I am gone. He has separation anxiety bad. He has, also, developed a problem in that he runs off into the hood when I let him out, with his brother Morisson, to use the facility at night. I will have to start keeping him on leash for such visits. Joan informs me that Cobb County charges you $241 if they pick your dog up wandering around.

I have Neil Young playing,  and am about to see what poems are in me, this morning. I like this Billy Collins quote that I found yesterday in his introduction to the book “180 More Extraordinary Poems for Every Day:”

“Some poems talk to us; others want us to witness an act of literary experimentation.”—Billy Collins

Collins follows up this statement by saying, “If you need to cut an entrance into a poem, who is going to bother? Why should a reader be asked to commit repeated acts of breaking and entering?”

The funny thing is that I had trouble, last night, accessing the first four, or five, poems that Collins had chosen for his anthology. I guess that one man’s accessibility is another man’s inaccessibility.

I do agree with Collins sentiment, in his statement, though: I don’t want to have to fight with a poem to read it. I want it to be a fun experience. That is my goal in writing poems, also.

I’m sucking down the lousy dollar store antihistamines hoping that they will give me some relief from this shit case of itchy eye that I have today. I love my dogs and cats but they irritate both my eyes and my sinuses. I know that the dollar store crap won’t work, but I am desperate; out right now of the better pharmacy pills.