"I wrote the news today

In a tent outside the midway rides." From "The Fake Headlines," from Mass Romantic, from The New Pornographers, from Canada and elsewhere. Full of good feeling this afternoon. Shortly I depart for the Midtown offices of a small nonprofit who could use my services. The chorus of the song above - "Fake headlines / Believe them / Come back" - has been my anthem of choice over the past few weeks of dedicated, dogged jobhunting. It's a catchier "Make your dreams come true and such jazz".

Also, from "Jackie", "Visualize success but don't believe your eyes."

No time to blog re: poetry. Hardly time to write it. And absolutely no time to write the poetry I want to write. What I've been doing recently in the absence of sufficient time has been to write small exercises that rarely amount to much. Well, perhaps they do. It isn't the type of poetry I want to be writing, however, it does seem to keep open the conduits through which the good poetry flows. In discussions with some recently well-met people at Poet's House, I described what I do as "mock mock epics" - btw, the mock epic is, according to the Princeton Review gurus (who know), one of the more popular subjects on the GRE Subject Test in English. For which I'm now studying. This additional "mock" in the self-description of my best and characteristic work seems part and parcel of Post-postmodernity, as well as of the New Sincerity which your hypertexting or Googling may have sent you here to read about.

This connection, between Post-post and the NS, is one that deserves hashing out. But now, off to be hired.