They took the crane apart/away this morning — briefly its boom (is that what it’s called?) reached across the river, where the temporary bridge had been. Then the workers expertly took it apart, and now she’s moving off. Roxanne arrived and departed around the same time as this bunch of July residents. I do feel she worked harder than I did, or at least has more to show for it. That shouldn’t be a surprise — she’s a crane, after all — I’m a poet. (more about that after some photos)
I’m meeting with Marilyn Hacker (a poet I’ve read and admired for years — even wrote about her work in grad school) today for a brief conference about some of my poems — I’m interested to hear what she has to say, but also anxious to spend lots of time in Maverick this afternoon, finishing up the latest/updated versions of two book-length poetry manuscripts — the old and venerable When We Smoked, and the newly titled Hunger’s Rope. That latter mss will probably need more long-term attention. The former….I just can’t let it go yet. I also am polishing up a new chapbook-length manuscript, Talking About the Weather. Feels good. It’s a gorgeous day, I’ve got good work to do, and even if the jackhammering resumes on the concrete temporary bridge supports, I’m in good spirits. Hope you are, too.