“He’s Not Dead He’s Only Sleeping”

. . . as the old gravestones say. Had a lovely birthday yesterday -- A & M came out & helped me make pizzas. ( made little individual-sized pizzas (about six inches in diameter) with red bell pepper, roasted garlic, olives, shiitake mushrooms, & red onions. C made one of her famous tosssed salads with mustard-honey dressing. We would have grilled but it had been stormy all day so we thought best not to risk it. As it turned out, we were able to spend some time on the deck enjoying the breezy post-storm weather we get this time of year. We had ice cream & brownies for desert. This morning C & I woke to the sound of a pair of loons calling to each other. C has gone off to the barn where she boards her horse to muck out stalls & ride, so it's just me & the dogs on a very quiet gray Sunday morning. Also, one reason I haven't posted much here the last week or so is that I've been working on something a bit longer & more complicated than my usual blog post, which I will probably put up (as a draft) in the next couple of days. (My hope is that it will turn into an actual essay of some sort over the next couple of weeks.) Then there has been all the weeding & planting (Peppers & herbs in pots, my only non ornamental gardening these days) over the last couple of weeks & my online course has begun, though it is not much work yet. I've been sorting through old notes & drafts in preparation for going to the Blue Mountain Center in three weeks & have come across several pieces I had completely forgotten about, which may get into the mix of work I'm laying out for myself during my residency. So: I have a couple of things in mind to put up here, but it is shaping up to be a busy summer.

Author: jd

Joseph Duemer is Professor of Literature Emeritus at Clarkson University in northern New York state. His most recent book of poems is Magical Thinking from Ohio State University Press. Since the mid-1990s he has spent a good deal of time in Vietnam, mostly Hanoi. He lives with his wife Carole & five terriers (four Jack Russells & one Patterdale) on the stony bank of the Raquette River in South Colton.

4 thoughts on ““He’s Not Dead He’s Only Sleeping””

  1. happy birthday. may the road rise with you and may the wind be always at your back says the irish praisesinger of yore. and may your inner warrior release your childhood exuberances. edward mycue

  2. Happy birthday.

    Speaking of gravestones, Marvin Bell announced what he wanted his to say at the last residency. Thought of you as well. The inscription: “Office hours 2-4.”

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