It’s almost my birthday, and I’m nervous. If you know me, you know I’m also nervous when it’s NOT almost my birthday, but am almost always nervous around big (Presidential) elections. Lots of reasons for that.

I think, mainly, though, it’s because I was RAISED to be both nervous and incredibly fixated on Presidential politics. I was dragged around door-knocking as a toddler, and I well remember my dad getting out the vote on our dial phone on Election Day, back late 50’s. It was the NY suburbs. Dad was an FDR Democrat in an Eisenhower world. And then miracle of miracles: JFK. He was even Irish, like my father. I learned that sometimes you win. And it was just like that unscheduled reinforcement that I read about when I was in school for teaching (I was a teacher for a good, long time): get the treat once and you never forget it.

So here I am, jazzed up again, hoping for the best and fearing the worst. Please, if you are reading this, VOTE BLUE!

BUT, however, and hold your horses.

This isn’t going to be a political blog, even though I tend to think about politics a bunch. Mostly, it’ll be about the fact that somehow I ended up a poet. Dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it. I’ve also written a bunch of YA: time travel novels published by Evernight Teen, The Bean Books. They are very fun, but there’s no business like Po business, and I really was a poet before I was anything else. In fact, I’m currently the poetry editor at the venerable online lit mag Eclectica. We are in process of putting our autumn issue to bed now, and I can’t wait for you to see it—I mean that. Watch this space; I’ll be writing more about it here.

Publication news this week is that I just picked up an acceptance from the launching-in-the-new-year ‘zine Wildscape. Sweet editors, fast turn-around on the acceptance, and I recommend you send them something if you are a free-verser with an eye for image. I’ll be reading for Eclectica again as soon as we get the new issue out. Lately, I’ve been lucky enough to get into Rattle (the autumn, Tribute To Musicians Issue), Red Eft (small but mighty and talk about a fast turn around!!), and Tar River, which should be out with a poem of mine in soon.

Anyway, I hope that’s enough for introductions. I’ll include a poem every time I put one of these blogs up, so here is a poem that Where Meadows Reside took this summer, all printed out for you here. It’s called “Benediction,” which seems like a good place to leave this.

Benediction

I want this poem to feel like giving in to the 

nap you’ve been fighting. Like the blue quilt you

are about to yank up to your neck. For it to be

the show in the contemporary crafts museum

you went to at seventeen with your cool friends,

the one that encouraged you to climb inside

the art, some of which was covered in mirrors.

See, I want you to have some say-so about this

poem. I want it to be what you need it to be.

For it to mean something to you I could never

predict. Like how lucky you are. I want it

to be the drive home on a road where you have

lived forever, in your car that isn’t new. For

this poem to be the leaves, the many young leaves

getting green and greener in today’s long rain.

Peace out friends! I’ll be back with more poetry and musings soon.