In between diapers and cupcake making

I try my best to make time to answer/send emails, brush my teeth, write a poem, save a dolphin... Someone recently asked what my work space looks like. So here it is. Complete with an empty jar of milk, the crust of today's turkey sandwich, my lucky rock, an undoubtedly belated birthday card for poet Jane Cassady, my favorite mug (chock-full of pencils), a beetle encased in glass and a crap-ton of books and papers and what appears to be a piece of my boo's rotisserie grill. Splendid! What's in that pink notebook behind the phone, you ask? Well, lemme tell you!

It's my little book of word lists, images, poem ideas and spells. If a word pops up in my head, I write it down and then decide what other word best compliments it. "gasoline pacifier" is a fun word combo, though I haven't put it anywhere yet. I also like "dashing rifles" and "cast-iron thrill." I do not actually write any poems in here. I started writing poetry during my last office job (criminy! that was 9 yrs ago!) and for some reason, I can't seem to write unless I'm "sneaking it in" and clackitty clacking at a keyboard. (Preferably one adorned with spilled milk and bread crumbs.)

Of course, this post would not be complete if I didn't show you my literary Jesus Juice. Some poets drink whiskey, some pretend to smoke Virginia Slims, others have an i.v. hook-up of coffee, but I'm a multi-tasker, remember? I like to write poems while building stonger bones. BAM!!!