Meatmachine.info

Yesterday was my twenty-first birthday, but that happens to lots of people. I went for a cruelly cold bike ride up Humboldt in the morning that featured rain, wind, sleet, and adventure. I had a nice day at work. I went out to dinner with a handful of friends. I went to a bar and drank drinks.

Today my friend Diana finished college, and I’m much prouder of her for working so hard than I am of myself for getting so old. There was a dinner tonight in her honor, and it was really pleasant.

After the meal had settled deeply into our stomachs and several friends had made their ways home (and elsewhere), I sat down and read my friend Quinn’s copy of Charles Simic’s The World Doesn’t End. I really liked it, and it has motivated me to try writing poetry again.

In the warm and social spirit of the past two evenings, and as another way to make myself write more, I’ve decided to start a poetry gang. I want to write lots and sort through the chaff with friends. I want red faces drinking red wine and sharing sonnets. I want this winter to get warmer at night.