Photo Essay: Lunch with Grandma

I did a lot of that today. Tomorrow, I'm getting ready for this. The day after that, I'll actually be doing it.

p.s. I don't know Flo Rock, but I still might name my kid after her...

Celebrated Artist Dan Perry Celebrates Things Worth Celebrating!

Further Adventures' own Dan Perry builds monuments to excellence...check it out.

You really should check out all of DP's art. He manages to work within a more formal, established aesthetic while simultaneously singling it out as ridiculous, though not unneeded. I don't know much about the more physical arts, but that sounds right, at least to me.

My very good and generous friend, Aaron McNally, has blessed me with a very good and generous Michigander review. Read it here.

After much bubbling the skies have settled. Over the last week I've seen rainbows shooting lightning into the earth, a parasol hiding tornadoes and a great goopy rain that hung from trees like towlines. I am happy for each of these.

Next week I'm heading up to Minneapolis to read for the Pocket Lab. This fact makes me nervous to no end. BUT, I will have books to sell, both my own and that of my press, Further Adventures. I'm going to need gas money, so please, please buy some.

After 8 weekday mornings I have managed to trick large groups of youths that writing is the most fun of all the arts...which means I have only 2 more to blow it. Today we read Shane Jones' "Floating Animals," poem and then wrote news stories (after interviewing each other) on what it was like seeing those animals drift through our towns. Half way into one particular interview, a six-year old decided she was a dog named Stripes and would only answer in barks and growls. It was the most awesome thing I've ever seen.

"Join us at the Rogue Buddha Gallery (357 13th Ave. Northeast) from 7-9 for poetry, conversation, and a celebration of Pocket Lab's first birthday. This little reading series is growing up..."

I'll be there, will you?

Dusty, you are the very definition of precision.

Today I went on a bike ride. Yesterday I made my own barbecue sauce. Tomorrow I am teaching 40 1st-5th graders narrative. In the end, I've filled my week with things that make me sweaty.

Have you read GC Waldrep's poem, "The Sherpas of Canada" in the last jubilat? It'll bite your head off, man. It's that huge.

Did you ever buy my book? If not NOW is the time. Greying Ghost Summer Sale! Shit, Kristen Orser's book is worth that kind of money and THEN throw in all those others?

Precision as only Dusty can deliver...

That sunburn is currently falling off in my bed. It's super gross. And super itchy.

This week (and next) I'm teaching writing at an arts camp. Today we rhymed. You know what rhymes with poo? Doo-doo. You know what rhymes with soccer? Soccer. I feel like I made a difference, you know?

Does your girl-dog hug your arm tight, lick your fingers and hump your elbow? Yeah, mine neither.

Secret: I'm reading the entire "Leaves of Grass" for the first time right now. I've had many reasons (read: school) to get this done, but never did. It seemed ridiculous. Was ridiculous. It's getting less and less ridiculous everyday. Like that sunburn.

This is a picture of my dogs making out. At first it was cute, but lately turned a little raunchy.

I pulled my back. I can't afford specificity so, "pulling" is the best I can do. And ibuprofen. You see, I am medically uninsured. Dentally too. I used to be automotively uninsured, but then I bought a new car. Did you know that GEICO is short for Government Employee Insurance Company? Did you know that writing poems at the University of Iowa makes you an employee of the University of Iowa? Did you know that I had gone 3 years without insurance? Did you know that I did get pulled over twice during that time, but oddly enough, I was driving someone else's car who did have insurance, or proof of it anyhow? Did you know that's not illegal?

Also, I've been eating a lot of pickles and then wiping my hands on a dish towel hanging from my oven. Now, if I wipe my hands for any reason, my hands smell like pickles. It's hard to not want a pickle when your hands already smell like one.

Did you know that you can order your coffee "kid's temp" and they will cool it down for you? I finally get to drink my coffee right when I get it.

New Action, Yes! I highly suggest Mary Hickman's poem "Totem."

Finally, my dog Jojo has been stockpiling my wife's dirty underwear in our living room under a chair...I had no idea until just now.

We should head out. Go and touch the funeral train. I have a feeling we're going to be talking it the rest of our lives. But for now, all we have to remember is that we are just a couple of boys who have a couple of hands and a need to run after almost anything.

Today was 86 degrees and my plants are all doing well. I don't know if this is the approval I'm always looking for, but it seems to fit at his hour.

Black Ocean is reading manuscripts. I'm not quite ready, but if you are...

This is why I love Lorine Niedecker:

*

You are my friend--
you bring me peaches
and the high bush cranberry
you carry
my fishpole

you water my worms
you patch my boot
with your mending kit
nothing in it
but my hand

*

So much seems to be happening I can't seem to catch my breath.