28 August 2009

Writing in bed

I am alone in the apartment. I was alone last night when I went to bed and alone when I woke up. I can't remember the last time this happened. I have to stop writing for a moment and think about it....

No, nothing. Maybe the year before last.

I wrote/worked on poems in bed for a couple of hours, then got up and showered. I've mailed off the release for the two accepted poems and I've heard nothing more from the magazine so I assume all is moving forward. As a result of this acceptance I am wondering what else could I submit, a rather inspiring wondering, so I'm not working on the novel again until school starts. I'm going on a course in November and my goal is to have some semblance of a word count by that time. But there's plenty of time. Until then it's poetry time. Especially today when I have no external obligations apart from (what else) a trip to the grocery store and later -- oh, much later -- to collect my daughter and friend from their day camp.


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. Hey, Jeannette -

    Earlier this year you translated a poem called Despair Sits on a Bench... I came across this song recently that uses the same basic image, to make another kind of statement. I think you might find it interesting.

    (by Justin Rutledge)
    The Devil's On A Bench In Stanley Park

    The devil's on a bench
    In Stanley Park
    She's a girl
    Who looks like you
    But only when it's dark
    The January sun
    Sets on her eyes
    Collapses on a landscape
    Filled with neon butterflies

    The Devil wears
    A bracelet made of bronze
    She offers me calligraphy
    And puts the kettle on
    Out on Commercial Drive
    It's growin' dark
    The rest is rust
    And stardust
    In a vacant
    Arctic Heart

    Don't bury me
    Very far
    From where you'll be
    No don't bury me
    Very far
    From where you'll be

    The devil has
    A hundred thousand names
    These are girls
    Who look like you
    But only when it rains
    So when I'm on the highway
    Of the Lord
    I have to take a shortcut
    To the one that I adored

    Don't bury me
    Very far
    From where you'll be
    Don't let them bury me
    Very far
    From where you'll be
    Sweet Emily

    Wow. Quite dark isn't it? I mean, considering it's a love song (I think).

    Justin Rutledge is a Canadian songwriter.