Another Monday night

passes with red wine and poems. David Baker read at the Poetry Forum; Ann Townsend was our scheduled reader but wasn't feeling well, so he filled in. As he put it good-naturedly: proof that ex-husbands are good for something. He read a couple of the same poems I heard him read last year, but mostly different ones, and I enjoyed his reading a lot, even though I'd been curious to hear her. Open Mic was good, almost without exception. I read a second draft of that "Miracle" poem I mentioned the other day. I think it's going to be a poem I end up liking a lot. Was also going to read something out of The Best of Best American Poetry 1988-1997 - Anthony Hecht's fantastic villanelle Prospects but hadn't had a chance to read it aloud and felt like I would mess it up, so just read my own poem. Came home, wrote a partial first draft of something I'd thought of last week, and tried to write the poem I threatened to write on Friday (making fun, a bit, of the lead singer of a band we were watching).

Waiting, sometimes patiently, for any answers from grad schools. I heard that Penn State has notified nonfiction and fiction people, but so far no poetry acceptances.... And, as of yesterday, the English department at Cleveland State hadn't received the material I mailed the end of January. That's a bit worrisome, as it included my recommendation letters, which I can't just print off another copy of, but the woman I spoke with didn't seem too concerned; she seemed to think that it was on campus somewhere but hadn't made its way into her hands yet. Quite possible, I suppose, and I can't worry too much about it right now.