I don't think I wrote anything yesterday; I was busy packing and getting home. I drove a young violin repair man to a youth hostel in Northwest Portland, and just as I let him off, I remembered that I left my black leather, zippered shave kit beside the sink in 304 Burlingham Hall, Pacific University. It has my shaving mug, razor, brush, beard trimmer, fingernail clippers, little scissors, toothbrush, shampoo, and God knows what else in it. I emailed one of the staff members at the U. and asked her for help. Much later in the day I received a really terse note: "I'll look for it and let you know." I have heard nothing. Gulp. Maybe I'll have to go totally shaggy and unkempt for the foreseeable future. I'm ready to drive back out there and get it if the staff people find it. I'm not drumming up much hope so far.
I've found my way into the three books I have to read, and I've got three drafts of poems so far. I see the books connecting up, so the reviews shouldn't be too hard to write, but I really need to get on with making poems. All for a while, I expect.
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