Well, I have run out of further Benjamin January to read until the library gets me a copy of Drinking Gourd (2016). I am having such fun with this series. I maintain that a television adaptation would be Dionysos' gift to actors of color and their audience.
Tonight I saw Robert Siodmak's Criss Cross (1949) at the Brattle with
skygiants. It's staccato and stylized and twisty and features the most deludedly self-disclaiming protagonist this side of Double Indemnity (1944); I'd like to write about it. My brain has felt like a blank wall since Readercon. The combination of catch-up work and heat wave utterly destroyed both my spare time and my sleep. I slept about nine hours last night, but that was under extenuating circumstances. I'd like to say that I'll see what I can get done on the train tomorrow, but in all probability I'll just sleep until Penn Station. I used to wake up at New Haven no matter where I was going. I suppose it's a good sign that I no longer always do.
I discovered this poet's first collection at a time when I could not afford to buy it, but I recommend this poem and all his other work you can find: Dan Taulapapa McMullin, "The Doors of the Sea."
Tonight I saw Robert Siodmak's Criss Cross (1949) at the Brattle with
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I discovered this poet's first collection at a time when I could not afford to buy it, but I recommend this poem and all his other work you can find: Dan Taulapapa McMullin, "The Doors of the Sea."