I wrote to Tony Hoagland and he wrote me back.
Ahhh, I almost screamed right there in the computer lab when I opened my mail and saw that he had actually replied, it was something like a 14 year old girl meeting their favorite Tyger Beat cutie, except for the whole he's middle-aged and balding thing. But it is definitly awesome, and he writes his letters like a poem, in lines. He is my favorite poet, I know, this is the biggest cliche, but I really do feel like he changed my life, after I started reading him I started reading everyone, I started writing more, he inspired me to immerse myself in poetry. His poems never become stale to me, I can read them over and over and over and still feel surprised by them. I cannot tell you how many times that man has saved my life. He makes me want/except/hope for more for myself. His writing is beautiful, like this:
We are amazed how hurt we are
we would give anything for what we have.
or this:
Last night I dreamed of X again
she's like a stain on my subconscious sheets
years ago she penetrated me
but though I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed
I never got her out,
but now I'm glad.
I could go on forever quoting him. I am so honored he wrote me back, a year ago I wrote a poem about a conversation Kansas City kid and I had about Hoagland, so it was a poem about Hoagland, a poem about us, and a poem about KC kid, it is a poem I'm very proud of, my professor suggested I look his e mail up and send it to him, he teaches at the University of Houston, so I found it and sent it, not thinking I would get a response, but I did, and "now I'm glad."
I do have to say it was hard to not call my "816" (I got ho's in different area codes, ha) and tell him about it, without him I never would have found Hoagland, we have had so many late night conversations about Hoagland and read so many poems to each other and I can't explain it, it's like Hoagland was a part of us, so yeah, it was hard, but I know what is best for me, but what feels really good is that it was one of those, "I really wish I could tell the kid about this, but I know I shouldn't" not "It's killing me that I can't call him, should I anyway?"
I have realized that I think I would be ready if the timing was right, three months ago I would have said, "No, I don't want to meet anyone" but i've started thinking about how it would be nice to have someone to read with at odd hours and dance around in my living room and be silly, etc. but I'm so damn picky, it's ridiculous, because if I can't see a boy being someone that I could say "let's go to a show in St. Louis/Kansas City/Chicago tommorrow night" and him saying yes, then I'm not interested. I want a boy who I can show up at his house at 2 in the morning wearing nothing but stockings, a garter, heels and my long red coat and him to be absolutly floored, and I know all of you will say any boy would want that, but it has to be a certain way, because there has to be a certain something about him being just as floored about the spontanaeity of it as he is about the stockings and garter and heels, I don't know how to explain it, it just takes a certain kind of person. I want a boy who likes to play, to go to the park and be silly and act like kids, I want a boy who will hold my hand because there is something sexy in the simplicity of holding hands, I want someone who understands the importance of laughter during sex, I want a boy who loves to listen to music loud while driving. And I want a boy without mountains of chest hair, blech!
Are all of these things so much to ask? Am I too picky? Am I just looking for the male version of me? Why do people always pretend to be spontaneous, but they really aren't? I think truly only once I have had someone in my life who was as spontaneous and loved surprises as much as I do, I hope I can find it again. I don't know why I'm writing this, I guess I'm just feeling girly and excited because it is the first time in a long time that I have even been interested in other boys.
Tommorrow, I am off on an adventure, if you need me, I will be somewhere deep in the heart of Texas. ::clap clap clap::
love and such-
tough
Ahhh, I almost screamed right there in the computer lab when I opened my mail and saw that he had actually replied, it was something like a 14 year old girl meeting their favorite Tyger Beat cutie, except for the whole he's middle-aged and balding thing. But it is definitly awesome, and he writes his letters like a poem, in lines. He is my favorite poet, I know, this is the biggest cliche, but I really do feel like he changed my life, after I started reading him I started reading everyone, I started writing more, he inspired me to immerse myself in poetry. His poems never become stale to me, I can read them over and over and over and still feel surprised by them. I cannot tell you how many times that man has saved my life. He makes me want/except/hope for more for myself. His writing is beautiful, like this:
We are amazed how hurt we are
we would give anything for what we have.
or this:
Last night I dreamed of X again
she's like a stain on my subconscious sheets
years ago she penetrated me
but though I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed
I never got her out,
but now I'm glad.
I could go on forever quoting him. I am so honored he wrote me back, a year ago I wrote a poem about a conversation Kansas City kid and I had about Hoagland, so it was a poem about Hoagland, a poem about us, and a poem about KC kid, it is a poem I'm very proud of, my professor suggested I look his e mail up and send it to him, he teaches at the University of Houston, so I found it and sent it, not thinking I would get a response, but I did, and "now I'm glad."
I do have to say it was hard to not call my "816" (I got ho's in different area codes, ha) and tell him about it, without him I never would have found Hoagland, we have had so many late night conversations about Hoagland and read so many poems to each other and I can't explain it, it's like Hoagland was a part of us, so yeah, it was hard, but I know what is best for me, but what feels really good is that it was one of those, "I really wish I could tell the kid about this, but I know I shouldn't" not "It's killing me that I can't call him, should I anyway?"
I have realized that I think I would be ready if the timing was right, three months ago I would have said, "No, I don't want to meet anyone" but i've started thinking about how it would be nice to have someone to read with at odd hours and dance around in my living room and be silly, etc. but I'm so damn picky, it's ridiculous, because if I can't see a boy being someone that I could say "let's go to a show in St. Louis/Kansas City/Chicago tommorrow night" and him saying yes, then I'm not interested. I want a boy who I can show up at his house at 2 in the morning wearing nothing but stockings, a garter, heels and my long red coat and him to be absolutly floored, and I know all of you will say any boy would want that, but it has to be a certain way, because there has to be a certain something about him being just as floored about the spontanaeity of it as he is about the stockings and garter and heels, I don't know how to explain it, it just takes a certain kind of person. I want a boy who likes to play, to go to the park and be silly and act like kids, I want a boy who will hold my hand because there is something sexy in the simplicity of holding hands, I want someone who understands the importance of laughter during sex, I want a boy who loves to listen to music loud while driving. And I want a boy without mountains of chest hair, blech!
Are all of these things so much to ask? Am I too picky? Am I just looking for the male version of me? Why do people always pretend to be spontaneous, but they really aren't? I think truly only once I have had someone in my life who was as spontaneous and loved surprises as much as I do, I hope I can find it again. I don't know why I'm writing this, I guess I'm just feeling girly and excited because it is the first time in a long time that I have even been interested in other boys.
Tommorrow, I am off on an adventure, if you need me, I will be somewhere deep in the heart of Texas. ::clap clap clap::
love and such-
tough
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Aidian
Gawd -- there's something about chest hair on a woman that drives me wild.....