Yesterday the Poetry Foundation shared my poem “Listening to Townes Van Zandt” on its Facebook page. Some people are having a thrilling argument in the comments about whether Townes Van Zandt was a minor artist.
My next poem will be called “Listening to The Beatles” or “Listening to Taylor Swift” or “Listening to Major Artists.” I have not decided yet.
Dream: I am driving through a Pennsylvania forest, at night, in a red car. The radio will not turn on so I accelerate in hopes of generating enough noise from the engine and the wind resistance to distract me from my own thoughts, which are primarily about loss and baking. Before long, my passenger, who is wearing a baseball glove, has had enough of my driving. He exits through the window. As I watch him go, I grow distracted and accelerate even more. I look forward in time to see that I am about to collide with the parking garage. It’s too late to stop. I wake up before I can be trapped, permanently, in the parking garage.