I haven't been writing this past week or so; just working and working and working. Nothing left for writing; nothing left even for blogging. I did go to the First Fridays art walk, which was stimulating visually. And though I saw some poets there, I didn't see much in the way of poetry. Seems like something's missing there. At the very least, we ought to be able to get together a table of broadsides and chapbooks and see if we can't recoup a little on our investment.

It has often seemed to me that visual artists are much better at seeing the mercenary side of production than poets. True, it's all about price tags and wealthy donors and a certain scramble to sell their work. But poets, we'd rather just give our chapbooks away. Or pay someone else money to read our poems, as in the case of most contests.

All of which goes to explain why we spend so much time on this blog talking about how what we're doing for money gets in the way of writing poetry. Maybe I do need to get a rich patron. Or write more formally (scroll down for second story).