Dearest Dears,

We made it through April. There were some times where it seemed a little dicey, especially April 7, when the president decided it would be novel to say that he was going to decimate an entire civilization. I spent that day sick to my stomach, knowing that he would certainly back down, but also knowing he’s completely unhinged and would do whatever he could for attention. Marisa Kabas wrote a great essay about this day, so that we can remember it for what was.

It cannot happen soon enough.

So it goes.*

Once again, for the most part, life in my sphere of Maynard proceeds well and beautifully. All those events in April were a balm to my weary heart. I wrote new poems as part of the NaPoMo Form Challenge put on every year by poets Taylor Byas and Séamus Isaac Fey. I still haven’t managed to write a villanelle yet, but am into Abecedarians now so it evens out.

For the Maynard Book Festival, I hosted a reading at Felixology and met poets from Lowell and read for the first time in forever. Also, I finally met Julia Story in person and heard her read new work, including a poem where the characters of Hamlet are portrayed by the characters from Happy Days. I mean, c’mon!

Also, I interviewed Luke O’Neil. Luke, he did great. I’m too nerdy/nervous by half to watch it again. It was a delight just to hear someone yell FUCK AI in a library. Perfect setting considering gAI is eating away our culture, our references, our history. I could go off for hours on how much I hate gAI because of what it’s doing to our sources of information, the environment, etc etc. It felt so great to see so many people who had the same simple beliefs — people should have food, healthcare, and a place to live.

It’s so strange to me how people fear this sentiment and think it’s so radical.

We hosted Gabrielle Calvocoressi and Sasha Waters at The Notebooks Collective. You can watch the recording of it here and catch a glimpse of Sasha’s upcoming American Masters documentary on Mary Oliver.

Then I went to the Nossrat Yassini Poetry Festival. It was my first time and it was lovely. I typed poems for 2 hours, worked on a collage for a bit, chatted with folks I knew, and attended Allison Adair’s panel. Then Patrick & Olivia picked me up and we went to Portsmouth for dinner. By the time we got home, we’d been gone for 9 hours.

IT WAS A BLUR

And then suddenly April was more than halfway over and it did take me a while to recalibrate. Because part of it was performative — reading poems, hosting, doing a Q&A, meeting with people to write poems — it was a different kind of socializing. In some ways it was easier, because I was doing a job. My job. But, then there were the regular interactions that became more difficult because of the aforementioned interactions had worn me out.

I’m learning more and more about what I can take, how I can protect myself, and even still, there’s always something new to discover. Sometimes it makes me sad that I learned about my ASD so late. I took some online diagnostic quizzes before I met with my therapist for screening and thought, ooooh weird am i autistic? It was like a key in a lock and a whole new room appeared.

I have this refrain in poems about what it means to be really seen. And weirdly, reading about austism makes me feel seen. By myself. For myself.

And now it is May and all day I dream about gardens. What I am going to do with gifted blueberry bushes and how to defeat my knotweed and how to go slowly but wanting all the flowers everywhere. I also dream about poems. Then in the morning I make myself submit them.

Lastly, I have been thinking about the men who are in office and how much they resemble the boys in my high school. The ones who were entitled, loud, too smooth. I have been thinking about the Anita Hill hearing and how my world was shaped by the reporting of it. And I think of Kavanaugh blubbering vs Ford’s calm demeanor; Thomas complaining about how he was the victim and his mother couldn’t leave her bed because of Hill’s accusation. And I think how different things would have been if we were a society that thought sexual assault & harassment were reasons to prevent men from positions of more power.

Sigh. Let’s think of flowers again.

WHAT’S UP WITH MAY

Coming up this month, we’re hosting Katherine D. Oldmixon Garza and Octavio Quintanilla at the Notebooks Collective. Join us on May 12!

Lisa & I also decided to start a patreon. We need your help to sustain our work.

Come read poems by Gwendolyn Brooks at the Maynard Public library on Thursday, May 21.

And on May 26, I will celebrate 19 years of marriage. 19!! It’s like so long and no time at all. Patrick and I are dreaming up landscapes, dancing in public, and parenting an amazing teen.

This month, he keeps making these chocolate CHONK bars that are so freaking good.

I’m lucky to have such a good place with friends and a partner who loves to cook. Going through my photos I realized there were so many other things I did in April: talked to turtles at the Wildlife refuge, had Easter dinner with family, celebrated Alisa’s birthday & Judy’s, went for walks, workshopped poems, book clubbed, oh and went to see a very earnest man play Revolutionary War era songs on a harpsichord. Can’t beat that!

With all the love and light,
Becca

* with all the respect in the world to the original So It Goes writer, Kurt Vonnegut