You look great!
Look at you, how’ve you been?
Finally, I’m in Roger Clemens’ shoes. Writing here (if once) after I said I wouldn’t. Goes to show: We’re making this up as we go along here, folks.
So. Wow. Posting an entry here while reclining in my bed makes the last eight-plus months vanish in a flash. Shocked may you be, I’m at ease. For me, eyeing this accumulation of letters not unlike snow falls midway between looking through a yearbook, or at pictures of an ex before burning them in a pot in your backyard. Strangely familiar — without the pathos of nostalgia — but mostly akin to travelling through time, into the sweet plushness of the real past, gigawatts all nonsense now.
Why the post? Damn it all! I’ve hit the mainstream!
In a sense. In the sense that my writing is no longer obsessive self-satisfying pleasure but at last meets the standards of another publishing mind, willing to see me naked.
To business: An old howlingman essay published under my new pen name, “Dan Mooney,” can be found right now at a website called The Subway Chronicles. The essay itself is here: “Screwball Dialogue.”
Oh, and more: A poem of mine (that is this writer with the Social Security Number, not so much this howlingman) showed up in a journal called Iambs and Trochees this past Spring 2006. The poem’s called, “Sonnet,” and it’s gloriously meta and your kids will read it one day in an anthology, if poetry or reading are still taught twenty years from now. For the poem, there’s no link to be found but think of what that says about its old-school ideals. Savory.
So, as old lovers, we’ve bumped in the night and so to the future. We’ll meet again. Don’t know where. Not sure when.
–mushroom clouds–
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