It is Thursday night. I am reading Couch by Benjamin Parzybok, while I lounge upon my own couch, hoping that it will not expect a quest such as that in the novel.
---
I should be reading Roberto Bolaño's 2666 right now, but it has too much death in it. I have been around too much death this week. It seems to be an occupational hazard. So, I had to go for something lighter for a while.
---
I will be back to 2666 soon. It keeps calling to me. This is also how I read Bolaño's The Savage Detectives. Slow. Steady. Taking plenty of notes along the way. Snapshots of where I had been.
---
And I keep sneaking peeks into the April issue of Poetry and issue #7 of A Public Space. I find I am more distracted and less focused the older I get. I'm not complaining about it. I rather like it.
---
And I keep sneaking peeks into Anne Carson's Decreation and Roberto Bolaño's The Romantic Dogs. I read a few poems here and a few poems there. Then I return to one of the novels I am reading.
---
But, for now, it is back to the couch. And back to Couch.
No comments:
Post a Comment