Finally looked this morning through my old poems.Not the really old ones, from my teens and 20s. Those were published long ago in two chapbooks as part of an arts collaboration I did with a friend.
We got a grant for printing, were assigned a downtown Rochester storefront window for our installation based on a poem of mine the first year, hers the second. We even gave poetry readings on opening night. Other artists (but no other poets) also had windows, so the whole downtown was a festival of art and poetry. I totally forgot we did that.
What I read through this morning were my mid-life poems; I’ve added five new ones in the past week or so. Now I’ll type them up and make an e-book link in time for AWD anniversary next week! This ambition is surely the result of the steroids my dr. gave me yesterday for a persistent (and really ugly) rash. But hey, Coleridge wrote Kubla Khan on opium.