This Blog Is 5

my retired name on facebook

This Thursday night after work I'm joining colleagues and friends for beer and that at Lanesplitter in Temescal. It's a Clay-is-leaving-us thing, so I'm not bringing any money. You are welcome. Kickoff is at 10:30. After the store's been closed.




4799 Telegraph Ave.
Oakland
653-5350

My days are numbered.

My dad's not doing well.

3 Past Blasts

BRENT AND LAURA OF SPD WILL BE BLOGGING LIVE FROM AWP AND IT'S ALREADY EXCITING BELIEVE IT.

I stand so tall and my eyes are blue (I think).
I'll be at AWP in the Bookfair helping out Omnidawn Press and Small Press Distribution.
I would like to say hello.

$119,930

The Google BANES to Reach This Page Campaign continues.

01089

extra: TRAIN TRACKS & SLUSH

Because I have friends to thank, an ugly mention of mehood:

Last night I received the NORTHERN CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ASSOCIATION OUTSTANDING HANDSELLING AWARD FOR 2007, "for creating 'a poetry section to be reckoned with'," which goes to show people behave unpredictably, buying small press poetry books.

Tomorrow this blog turns 2.

Oh dear, self-promotion.

I confess to Kate Greenstreet here.

1. If you stretch your legs and point your toes, you can reach the weekend.
2. Four Lectures apparently down.
3. One of you twenty who click here often will soon mark this blog's 50,000th visit.

Fifty thousand looms. Or is it loams.

Not me.

Weirdly, I've been thinking of writing some poems again.

I Shouldn't Have, but I Did II

Smoke. Yeah. Not with contrivance—I wasn't thinking I'd just smoke one, I didn't measure and decide to become a smoker again.

I did it because I wanted to. To be bad.

So it happend. It happened, happened, and coiled. I bought cigarettes in odd shops. I stopped going out. Meantime, I've sat, and apart from the shame and embarrassment, I feel and have felt crap: headaches, bodyaches, shit breath, and reclusion. Also, technically, lying—although addicts always lie, it's what we do, so that's the least fussy part o absolve myself of. Like sneezing.

It's been a fortnight in hell.

I'm coming up for air.