The poem wasn't working. I had a frustrating time last night, trying to decide what to keep in the poem and what to give away. I went to bed around 10, got up twenty minutes later, and cut every thing that wasn't working. I said a prayer for the rest, and went back to bed.
This morning, I am encouraged. I didn't do everything that needs to be done, but the poem is alive. If I can finish a few more poems by Labor Day, I will be back in the mix.
"You just go on your nerve," Frank OHara said, if I remember properly.
I owe responses on several requests and projects. Not to worry, I will get to them. I became a bit obsessive in the past two weeks about my work, but of course, that's why I'm here.
All this heat, so little rain.