I have had continual problems with logging in and editing this blog for several weeks. I think the problem has finally been resolved thanks to computer guru Judie.

Last night it was just me 'n' the guys. Mr. Williams and the Shadow-Poet were on time (noteworthy). Alan was quite poetic and kicked off quite a discussion of what wives and husbands talk about. The family silver? If you are a gay guy, Tim insists you talk silver.

Tim came with a bully/strawberry milkshake story which we gave him some critique about. Very little, tho, as it was already good. Dan "held wide the door" to new experiences with a patriotic sounding verse.

Paul was caught in the garden of good and evil and Larry had already made his leap. Mike took a little more controversy than usual describing a rainy bike ride for missing children. Mike was great, btw, at his Social Justice feature and dinner at El Loco. Turns out not to be my fav restaurant, but nobody complained. Good poems.

Poemless, me.

Only news is Sunday Four this week with Dale Hobson.

riding unharmed, and untouched, toward death (Carver)

Tim entertained us all again with The Champions. Hilarious and very Tim. Tom suggested axing (at least part of) the last paragraph as too philosophical. We seemed to be philosophical quite often last night, perhaps LRapant is influencing us all (the philosophy emails have been flying fast and furious).

Edie inspired quite a discussion with Poor Yorick, a tongue-twister whose title seemed misleading. Paul recollected one of the moments in his life that haunted him in One Ghost and Edie told a holocaust story it reminded her of.

I amused myself drawing hats on Catherine's hat and hatless poem which had a great bald thought. Obee took us down the rabbit hole with a clever mind poem written in mirror form. Tim found it romantic.

Edie nominated Alan's line for best line of the evening: "way above, way way above". Alan was spontaneous. Larry was extremely effective with a story poem about a teen/teacher affair. The Shadow Poet emerged in In Search of the Magical Other, a lecture-like reflection on loss and love by Jim.

Tom is back, prompting me to search out more Raymond Carver, thank you.

Philomena and I were poemless. Plans talked about for dinner next Thursday prior to the Beach Boy's appearance at the Social Justice Center.

Late Again

I had more problems with the blog last week and took a while to resolve them with the help of the VPL computer guru Judie. Now I have half forgotten the last meeting and don't much feel like writing about it, so I will be very brief. We started out small but ended up with ten people as others straggled in. Dan was the very latest and we were unable to squeeze his poem in because we had been indulging in extra conversation. That, btw, is okay with me. Our conversations are invigorating and on topic (poetry) even if we wander away from the poem on the table.

I will mention that Tim brought a (very) short prose piece which he had asked me about ahead of time. I have no problem with short prose; in fact, it was standard procedure when the group began a million years ago that writers could bring anything they had written, subject only to length limits. Larry's work tonight also bordered on prose, although we all seemed to dislike it, making LR happy.

I feel that I should mention Mark's garage door photos, which I personally loved, along with the poem. Very creative example of Mark's abundant talents.

If there was anything else, I've forgotten.