Being asked to blog this week took me a bit by surprise. See, I’m one of those (I’m suspecting) not-so-rare creatures whom the rest of the writing world hears little about: I’m a writer who no longer writes. Poetry–it’s been a couple of years since I wrote any and at least five since I felt like a “working poet.” PhD dissertation–abandoned, half-finished. Last blog-post–over a year ago. Freelance work–dried up a few months ago. I have stopped trying to figure out why it happened; this bit of blogging is perhaps an experiment to see if I can reverse the trend.

What does a non-writing writer do? Here’s a handy list:

* Rediscovers metal, as in heavy. As in 1980s–thrash, speed, and death.
* Launders diapers. Folds diapers. Lots of diapers.
* Plays German boardgames. Er, rather, acquires German boardgames and looks for people to play with him. Recommendations: Carcassonne and Hive.
* Watches vampire movies.
* Makes a mean vindaloo.
* Spends far too much time on Facebook.

And I do a fair amount of reading, though these days most of it is from the laptop screen.

Daniel Nester’s piece in The Morning News manages to capture my feelings about poetry, po-world, po-biz rather nicely: Goodbye to All Them.

Joseph Massey has received plenty of critical attention for his minimalist poems, most recently collected in Areas of Fog, but I’ve always enjoyed his less-well-known IM messages. Here are a few:

A bit of impromptu verse:

plan: slather / my knob in spicy / sugary beef sauce / and then call the cops / because it’s going to catch fire / and ignite my entire Tori Amos / world in flames of flavor / I savor your terrorist titties / and buckle and break like the foundations / of a bombed building

A dialogue:

Joe M: Did you see my post this morning?
TonyR: no
TonyR: i will look now
TonyR: very nice
TonyR: you look good in that outfit
TonyR: last night Jess Mynes called John Weiners “the gay tony”
Joe M: What was the connection?
TonyR: my magnificent poesy
Joe M: I don’t see the similarities.
TonyR: that is fine
TonyR: you may dis me if you like
Joe M: It’s not a diss!
TonyR: by the way, i bought this book the other day:
TonyR: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1906002010/ref=pd_rate_rs/104-8867643-0433557
Joe M: If I had to pick poets that you remind me of, I wouldn’t pick Wieners.
TonyR: it is better than any book of poesy
Joe M: That looks like a fun read. One for the shitter.
TonyR: oh yeah. it’s huge and comprehensive
TonyR: though it’s not very well-edited
TonyR: it contains typos and factual inaccuracies
Joe M: Wieners was very invested in the idea of being a poet as some exalted almost otherworldly duty. You don’t have that attitude.
TonyR: i am invested in being a poet as a quotidian task
Joe M: But he was very frank in his personal poems, the sexual frustration and self-deprecation — I can see that connection.
TonyR: it is a berriganish attitude without the IMPORTANCE
TonyR: i’m gonna start a metal band
Joe M: Call it HELL HAMMS
TonyR: YES
TonyR: our mascot will be a big cuddly bear with a pentagram shaved into his chest fur
Joe M: I love it. I want to be the tambourine girl.
TonyR: You may!
TonyR: hey do you mind if i publish this conversation to one of my clogs?
Joe M: I don’t providing you say something very flattering about my diminutive verses.
Joe M: *mind
TonyR: okay. i will.

Collected wisdom:

I love birds. I dislike bird-like dumb ass people.

*

Mike Joyce is an avaricious monkey.

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I love Bill Murray. I had a dream about him the other night — he just walked up to me, told me he likes my poems, and gave me a free laptop.

*

measure_elvis: You’re a tactless prick, Bob.
TonyR: why is that tactless?
TonyR: i am merely stating fact
measure_elvis: Well, explain why you requested Def Leppard to be playing from that Hilton hallway boombox when you went into a closet with Eduardo and tongued the lisp out of him?
measure_elvis: Facts, just facts.

*

This fruitcake has put me in a philosophical frame of mind.

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More to come, after I finish this True Blood marathon.