Found a poet I’d heard named often but hadn’t yet read her books, Louise Gluck. I read a few poems in her book, set it down, read a few from my book. I saw and heard what are in mine, realized what are in hers.
I am happy to read a woman who mentions the word, “fig” as much as I have.
I am drinking it in, the nectar of the new; what I hadn’t known that is within me becomes realized. How wonderful it is, this deliciousness on my tongue along with the hint of something I hadn’t yet tasted.
The audiobook I am creating for my print poetry book is in the finishing stage, had been finished with the actual recording, now finalizing. This is not the rapturous part, but the tedious, stare at the screen and accidentally drink way too much Vanilla Chai to later become a caffeinated wreck of a person-part. But caffeine wreckage passes and we have been given another day, and so I will pick the project up again without a pounding heart.