The end of the semester and we are just drowning in books--overflowing carts on the all the floors, books stacked every which way in the holding shelves, and our book drops jammed to the top. While I was checking in a bunch, I did find a an interesting poster art book I hadn't yet seen and another Chicago ghost story book. I managed to finish the book I was reading before dropping of off to sleep last night--very good, but the end was a bit abrupt and not quite as a big a finish as I'd expected. But last night was right out of a ghostly novel, thick and foggy, enough to block out the North skyline completely when I walked out. My waiting for something, anything in the mail, was abated a little by recieving my copy of ACM w/ "In Spain" in it. The theme is apparently text and image, so there is a lot of cool artwork inside in addition to writing, and some great cover art. I think it's probably one of my favorite poems I've written (very short, clean, simple), and it was one of the ones that snagged me the Poetry Center thing last year. Funny, I remember it was absolutely ripped apart in workshop last spring. The one that garnered the comment "Would you please write another poem?" if I remember correctly. Yeah, well, bite me...
When I worked in the elementary school library and basically had to run daily operations and shelve books (mostly on my knees no less) I used to have dreams about shelving and putting things in call number order. Since I don't really shelve books anymore, those dreams have stopped, but have been occasionally replaced by dreams where people won't leave the library at closing time, and the computers all going down at the circulation desk. And once, that every book we checked out had to be looked up in this ridiculously large three ring binder by isbn number, and nobody thought this was a stupid idea but me.
When I worked in the elementary school library and basically had to run daily operations and shelve books (mostly on my knees no less) I used to have dreams about shelving and putting things in call number order. Since I don't really shelve books anymore, those dreams have stopped, but have been occasionally replaced by dreams where people won't leave the library at closing time, and the computers all going down at the circulation desk. And once, that every book we checked out had to be looked up in this ridiculously large three ring binder by isbn number, and nobody thought this was a stupid idea but me.
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