Buggeryville

I am wildly disinterested in writing about poetry on a blog these days.

I am mostly disinterested in reading about poetry on blogs these days. But old habits die hard.

I am mildly interested that many of the blogs about poetry that I used to read avidly have mostly stopped writing about poetry and started posting, oh, youtube clips, or hermetic phrases, or pictures of cats. Cats are cute, though. We have said what we were going to say, and we are tired of this conversation; we are poets, and are tired of this form, but haven't yet worked up a new one.

I am rather interested in reconsidering this space, this conblogoration, and whether it can once again be used as an impetus for social connections, or whether it is best as an archive of ideas and thoughts, and an occasional notice about events and happenings. But a new project recommends a new space. The blog as e-book, rather than the blog as diary or as notes towards an article. National Finite Blogging Month.

I am extremely interested in someone creating a time and a space where I live in which I can get drunk on words again, as I had where I used to live, but I admit, I do not feel like setting it up myself. But perhaps one needs to prioritize these things.