Apparently we're supposed to get a drop of rain this morning, though only enough to make me sad we're not getting more. Ah, well. Not all is lost. Somehow my half-assed groundhog measures did the trick; and despite the drought, I am now bringing in more green beans and cucumbers than we can quickly consume, the lettuce and parsley are regenerating, and the cilantro only looks semi-terrible.

I did some weeding yesterday--selectively, because stirring up the soil just dries it out even more. I cut down dead flower stalks, deadheaded blooms, and ran the trimmer over the splayed edges of the brown lawn. Things out there look as good as they can look, which is not good at all but is at least no longer dotted with crabgrass.

As I worked, I pulled together some thoughts for a new class on the long poem, so check out what I've posted on the Poetry Kitchen page. I am not 100 percent sure the class will run, though I certainly hope so.   Are people interested in pushing themselves into length? I don't really know.

As I wrote yesterday, for me, the long poem has been transformative. I believe that my best work is likely embedded in those poems. I have learned so much about myself, about the expansiveness of poetry, about dramatic movement and tension, about narrative, about the unknown. Oddly, I've also had external success with those poems: several have appeared in major journals; several have received attention from well-known writers. Many people have the notion that long poems are unpublishable, but that is not the case.

Anyway, I'd love to spend time with you and Walt Whitman and your ventures into the long form. The class will take place over two weekends: one in October, the other in November. Between times, you'll be writing and sharing with other participants. Thus, I hope it will be a social opportunity as well as a writing one. I've capped the numbers at eight instead of my usual twelve so that we have ample time to share work.

The cost is $300, which a friend tells me is way too little to charge for so much time and planning. She worries that I am undervaluing myself, and I take her point. Probably I am undervaluing myself. But I also want to make these classes affordable. I know what it's like to have no money but to long for a community of writers.