"angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night"
-Allen Ginsberg, "Howl" 

As always, Coffeehouse proves a font of poetic inspiration. For example, I have been enticed to revisit "Howl," (read aloud by Gowan) which I had disparaged upon my first reading two years ago (blasphemous for a lover of modern poetry). A warning to anyone who looks the poem up--the Beat poets were shocking for their time and still obscene today, so tread carefully.

Hello to my three commenters! I'm very flattered. I might try to put up some of my work on here by next Friday, but I have to confess that I'm cripplingly shy about it, so we'll see how that goes, I suppose.

Poetry is never predictable for me, and two days ago, I was struck by a bolt of inspiration and of course, I was electrified and captivated and the bell rang far too soon. So this week, I will aim to finish that poem. And return to my napkin-thief poem translation as well, doubly egged on by the reminder of a friend's napkin collection. Who collects napkins, anyway? Catullus and Amy Pan.

Next week will also be a week for a hundred visions and revisions (I go back to "Prufrock," always, always). I want to dig up a few old poems from last year and rework them with my new knowledge. One of those will probably end up being posted up here. I am also going to refine a poem from a month ago and flesh it out more thoroughly because it ties back to Friday's theme--I am writing out my feelings of inadequacy in the face of towers of demanding college applications.

Also inspired by Coffeehouse, I want to do a lighthearted little monologue sort of poem like two people (Arohi and Brendan) shared, just a snapshot of what a typical day is like. My poems last week were a lot more serious, as is the current one I'm working with, so this will be a change of pace just to keep me on my toes and not sinking down into the mire of artistic angst.