Just where would a toad go? Behind the bookshelves? Under the bed (I looked)? Okay, just about any-fucking-where. I am coming up empty-handed here, but thanks to all the wonderful comments, I'm feeling less like a mean and un-green mommy. Thaaaaaanks.
Meanwhile, I've been revising a poem I started in Kelli Russell Agodon's lots-of-good-juju Poetry Barn. I just sent it to a far-flung correspondent/friend/critiquer extraordinaire Moira Linehan; her book If No Moon (Crab Orchard Review 2006--selected by Dorianne Laux and reviewed in the Summer 2008 issue of Rattle) just received Poetry Honors, along with Robert Pinsky's Gulf Music, in the 8th annual Massachusetts Book Awards.
Hey, while I'm plugging friends and such, I might as well let you know that two of my poetry pals, Tom Hunley and Michael Heffernan, and my best poetry teacher, David Wagoner, are all about to have their poems read on The Writer's Alamanac. David's will air October 16, Michael's on October 19, and Tom's on October 25. Please tune in or have a listen via PodCast. You'll be glad you did.
Cricket report: they've completely stopped chirping. Absolute silence. I think this happened last autumn too, though it was less noticeable cuz we didn't have quite so many on the loose. Do you think their breeding time is August/Sept, or perhaps it's their swan song to summer?
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2 comments:
I think Sue Hubble's camel crickets in Broadsides from the Other Orders: A Book About Bugs shuffle off their mortal coils about now. I, however, prefer to believe the toads have bellied up to the cricket bar (little buggers eat books) like the noble souls they are. Buffo vulgaris my spadefoot. (Did you see Sarah Lindsay's wonderful toad poem on PD yesterday?)
Hey there, rams! Shuffle off their mortal coils, do they? So, they aren't even supposed to be alive this time of year? Dang, of course not.
The wonders of pet stores. Of cricket-breeding enterprises.
And thanks for steering me to it--Sarah's "Song of the Spadefoot Toad" is awwwwsome. I see Copper Canyon just pubbed her Twigs and Knucklebones. Gotta love that title.
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