The nice thing about writing reviews of poetry books is the ongoing education I am receiving by reading contemporary poetry.
Often I am mistaken as a student on the bus. Last week an older woman asked me if I was a student at UNCA. I told her no and that I was reading a book to write a review of it. Later that week, a man on the bus asked me if I was in college. Again, I told him no and that I was reading a book (a different book of poems (I read two books last week)) to wrote a review about it. He then began to tell me about a book he read that absolutely amazed him. It was a narrative nonfiction book about Ernest Shackleton’s Antarctic expedition. The conversation was amiable.
I came away thinking that must I look like a student. I suppose there are worse things to look like.
Coffeehouse Junkie 