IBPC: Poetry & Poets in Rags
Most of the cramming for this week's Poetry & Poets in Rags took place first at the Comfort Inn in Yulee, Florida, just north of Jacksonville before the Georgia line, and then at a Holiday Inn Express just outside Myrtle Beach last night and this morning, just before the North Carolina line. I ran out of internet time for my room there. Instead of asking for more, I hit the road and arrived here at my daughter's house in Holly Springs, near Raleigh, North Carolina, where I will finish things up tonight. On Thursday, I am off to stay in Parsippany, New Jersey, to be at The Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival close by there in Stanhope. One of our stories this week is on The Dodge. But in the last few days, I have been to the magical Florida Keys, where I had one of the best meals ever (King Fish with great friends); swanky South Beach; beautiful, amazing Fort Lauderdale, which I loved, and Savannah, Savannah, which I drove all around and into, and loved so much it held me up a day's travel time, and many spots, plus all pavement in between. This is an extraordinary vacation. I am inhaling and exhaling life, flooded with senses and spirits of place, magic and deja vu, all as I free myself from my workaday habits and emotions. Anyway . . .
For some time, I thought that surely the top story of the week would be the series by the Guardian on how to write poetry. This is a great, great thing for that newspaper to do. I'm just floored by it--cannot be topped, right? It would take a story of earth-shifting and poetically cosmos-shaking proportions to top that series. And it happened. At 79, U Win Tin is finally freed. It all finally worked. He is free, as he still speaks.I leave the rest of this week in poetry to your discovery. Happy traveling.
Yours,
Rus
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