after Cave Canem

The drive back from Cave Canem was much easier than the drive in. For those of you who don't know about CC, it's a 3 year fellowship award with a slew (slew: total of 54 every year from across the black diaspora) of poets who gather annually in Greensburg, Pennsylvania to workshop, network, and hang out for a whole week.

Anyway, you know us loners. People are like ... well ... like those ladybugs i was talking about. Pretty when there's one or two, but you throw too many in the mix ...

Funny that was my last post.

It was my third year with CC'ers. I went in prepared. Earplugs. Laptop. Good pillows. A dark curtain for the window. Nausea pills.

This year, I hardly needed any of it. I hardly stayed in my room. I preferred to write my poems at the "poem factory" where an assembly line of laptops lined the tables in Village Hall. I sat for hours on the stoop with the smokers. I drank out of poet's cups. I got in the pictures. I shared my poems. I asked questions.

I asked alot of questions.

Before I left for CC, I was starting to think my blog felt lonely. Maybe that's why I stopped posting for awhile. Overall, I dig this space where I can throw out my rambles and it doesn't even matter if anyone's reading them or not.

But that big gaping thing in my chest is a little less running, just now. So maybe my blog will feel a little more peopled in the coming days.

Thanks, CC. I've got you all crowded in.