Second Week Out

The snow was less of a hindrance today. I wore pants that did not hit the wet pavement. That helped too. I headed out at what I thought was going to make me late. I wasn't late, but the hurry vindicated my motivation.

Today I did pretty much the same thing I did yesterday. Saturdays are quiet in the building. We're one of the few offices with open doors. When I came in Mike was there with Renni (sp); the other intern slated to come in today was sick. Renni is another intern. She's in her last year at Hunter College for creative writing. She's much more pop oriented than the rest of the office seems to be, but that's okay, a liberal manner is conserved by all.
Mike wanted to order pizza, since he had not had breakfast yet. Though it was lunch time when I came, I made no complaints about free food. We got a mushroom and a pepper pizza (with random mozz. splotches for cheese) delivered from The country's first ever pizza shop, Lombardi's. New York pizza is fine, certainly gourmet, but (and don't tell them I said so) it's just so different from the doughy, cheezy, greasey yummyness that I grew up with. The pieces are bigger here, yes, but they're definitely not as bulky. I imagine if New York pizza went deep dish, it would be a bit more like the hometown favorite.

As the day grew on, it became increasingly more obvious to me that Mike was really just here to oversee us as a man with the keys to open the door at the beginning of the day. Maybe there was some work he needed to get done, but shortly after Renni and I got into folding flyers, he joined in. Stellan came in shortly after and then Carlin. I have seen Carlin in the main office once or twice, but I met her officially today. Another of the paid assistants. She didn't have much to say, but again, today was Saturday. She, with access to the flyer template, printed out another 500 copies for us to fold. So, in the thick of the day (my shift is 12-5) there were 5 folders. The system for these flyers is: Fold into thirds, staple both corners, place an address label on each one, and stamp them with the nifty stamp machine. By the end of the day we had folded all the 500 that were already printed and were about 300 away from being complete. Now, though, it's out of my hands. I overheard Mike saying it was the fault of the calendar tracker (whoever that might be) that the task was handled rather late.
Anyway, I believe Stellan was the one to start this day's entertainment by asking Carlin how she enjoyed the old episodes of Arrested Development that he and Mike suggested she watch. Somehow all of that eventually launched into an internet video viewing spree, mostly the stuff from Will Ferrell's repertoire and website. I don't really like Ferrell all that much, but everyone else gets a kick out of him.

I worked a couple hours late, not realizing the time. It doesn't really matter on Saturday. I like to stay in the city until after 8pm, because the peak time for trains (the time when they charge you more because it's busier) ends then. I finished my Elizabeth Bishop reading and am still about half-way through Ann Carson's The Beauty of the Husband. I love it. It's provoked me to write an expanded dialogue.


More from me next weekend! Let me know how you all are and what you think.

Second Week In

Back from my Friday in the city. It was a winter wonderland etc. from my window this morning and until I had to go out into it. The rest of the day the wonder had lost it's credibility. This was (I think) my first time into the city with snow. I would have just stayed in bed if I didn't have work. Sarah Lawrence College closed today due to the snow, which hadn't even started until 1am.

I headed into the city a bit later, the walk to the station being a bit more difficult with snow on the sidewalks. The streets were well paved, and there was little to no traffic, so I spent some of my walk on the road. I caught the 1:57pm train into the city by a hair, having to buy a new ten-trip ticket just before boarding. While this train was semi-express, it still got me into the city too late to walk to Poets House, so I took the 5 and 6 trains to Bleecker and ended up 10 minutes early.

There isn't much to say about what I did today. I folded flyers into thirds all day: multi-colored invitations to be sent by mail with staples on the corners to close them and an address label. Poets House has about 2300 people on their mailing list; we got about half that (1100) printed out and almost completed today. We may end up finishing them tomorrow. The event is the upcoming Harlem Renaissance Revisited reading. Though it takes place on a Tuesday (March 4th), I would love to make it. For those not familiar, the Harlem Renaissance was a huge movement in African American social freedom in the 1920s. The movement had the most effect on freedom of expression through art. We read Gwendolyn Brooks a few weeks back in my poetry workshop, and Brooks revives a good deal of spirit from the movement, coming a bit later and being at the height of her popularity around 1950.
I say 'we' above because I thankfully did not manage all of these flyers by myself. Zack and Stellan were also tasked this job. For a while the two assistants, Jennifer and Krista (the latter I just met officially today) were also helping out. Mike was playing a nice range of pre-punk rock, experimental indie, blues and beat folk throughout our congregation. Christa requested some Stringsteen, so we listened to that for a while too. Krista also played for all of us a song her boyfriend wrote her for valentines day. It was ironic and punk rock and cute. The sssistants, who have worked there for a while now, gave the tedium a relaxed tone with jokes and inside stories. The environment is very low key and everyone there is kind and respectful. This sort of thing is a rare picture in New York City. With the bottles of Izze and the recycling bins everywhere, it almost feels like home.

I got to see a few other people roaming the offices today, though I didn't actually meet all of them. One of the more important people (I say that because the important people have their own offices) introduced herself as Jane, and due to the fact that she was a very outgoing individual I guessed she was in charge of relations. Only half true, Jane is the managing director, the person responsible for keeping track of the company's various assets and other statistics. I'd be interested to find out from her how exactly one manages non-profit; it must be a headache.

I hear tomorrow I'll be working with a bunch of people I have not yet met. A couple of them are interns/volunteers like me. We'll get those flyers out in no time.

President's Weekend

Writing a few days after the point, I shall recall what transpired and why.

It is Friday morning, just after my enjoyable group meeting with Arai Sensei. My fiancée, Anna, is set to arrive in the city around 7:45pm, just after I get out of my first day @ Poets House. I had prepared to leave early, then remembered that my shift starts at 3pm. As with anything big like this, there are those initial days when there is a war inside over the being overprepared and the being underprepared. In a couple weeks I'll have a system down. I'll know the train schedule (not that I don't already...but more deeply), I'll have a more structured snack prepared, and I'll know the places around my building well enough to know where I can and can't sit down and make a phone call.
For now, It's a day of exploration. A friend once said her goal in life is to always be in a continual state of wonder. Currently that would be a scary notion, so I will go into today with a confidence that does not impede my capacity to be ignorant and curious.

Today I packed a pb&j sandwich, not knowing whether or not or when I would get a break (my shift is only four hours long anyway). I brought this week's Poetry Workshop reading, the moderately-sized W. S. Merwin collection (Vol II), for the train ride in and out. I stuffed my big Main Street Books bag with implements for cold weather and a little journal on which to take some notes. I walked the fifteen minutes to Fleetwood station and got straight on trains that bring all the working people into Grand Central. I didn't get to read much Merwin (page 24 of 130); there's a good deal of density in his poetry that tends to make his shorter poems more poignant. Here's one of my favorites:

SAVONAROLA

Unable to endure my world and calling the failure God, I will destroy yours.

I have decided it an opportunity to head into the city a bit early so that I can avoid the $2 fee for the subway ride and take an old fashioned walk from Grand Central to work. People call Manhattan big (and I suppose all things considered it is), but really in the center of the city the span I walk day by day is a harmless trek. It provides me an opportunity to immerse myself in the pathos of the city, that way I feel more comfortable at work in the city.
I called an old friend on my way to the Broadway offices. He's in Georgia now and we don't get to talk very often, so we usually spend hours on the phone. The call made the trip much shorter, and by the time I got to 794, Poets House current headquarters, 3pm was approaching and our vibrant conversation was being poked by the feeling that I probably shouldn't be 2 hours late. So, I went inside and got started.

The elevators in this normal apartment building are strange to me. The small lobby has two halls: the one on the right (the wrong one, which I took last time) leads to two elevators which service floors 7 and up. The left hall leads to two other elevators which service 1-6. Poets House is on the 5th floor, pretty much at the end of a twisting hallway of many other business offices. I take the left hallway this time. The stairs are not a working strategy as some doors don't seem to have handles on the inside!
My day starts in the same room of the small office area in which I met Mike Romanos for my interview last week. On my way in I meet Lee Briccetti briefly and shake hands. *(whisper) Lee is the big name, the premier representative for Poets House; in official terms, she's the executive director here at poets house. I am absolutely speechless in gratitude and awe of her ability to remain devoted so to the idea of the House*

A little bit of history here. Elizabeth Kray, a very important name in poetry correspondence of the 20th century, and Stanley Kunitz, life-long poet and former poet laureate of the U.S., co-founded Poets House inspired by a similar library in London. Though both founders have passed, their legacy is being upheld with determined, believing hands. I should gather numbers on their stock.

I have met a number interesting people on my first day, though I can't say I know perfectly what each one of them does. So, for now, I will give a synopsis.
Mike Romanos is the leader of most aspects of the organization that don't involve business input. He's a practical guy with an interest in genuinely-made music (and mix-tapes; he's in a club).
There was someone working opposite Mike whose name I think is Katelyn, or some variant of that. She asked me a bunch of questions, all good-natured, most just to get to know my character. I considered it an honor, though Mike insisted her rambling was a violation of the unwritten rule on ice-breaking.
Stellan also sat in this room, a bit off to one corner, most of the time donning headphones. He was a bit younger in appearance and seemed to be spending his time managing audio files. He mentioned his interview experiences with certain poets and writers numerous times, so I figure that to be one of his main occupations. Poets House does have an audio collection of readings and interviews, though I honestly do not know much about it. Stellan will prove a source of interesting insight.
I met a slightly more quiet, perhaps simply introspective, individual named Zack. He sat at a desk out in the main part of the offices and seemed to be doing the same style of work as I was doing. He would come in from time to time to grab a stack of new books from the shelves and carry them back to his desk to sort them out and plug them into the database that was being compiled for our showcase. Perhaps I will soon end up doing similar things. He used to attend Sarah Lawrence College and knew Matthea Harvey, my long distance don, well while there, so we had a few things to talk about (in fact we met briefly at Matthea's book party back in October, so we discovered), but other than that, our interaction was less this day, since his office was further away.
Finally, I met what Mike called his "secretary," Jennifer, who also worked in the main office area. Technically I suppose she was a secretary of sorts, being the first in sight upon a visitor's entrance, but I am pretty sure Mike was being comically hyperbolic. Later that day, Jennifer came into our side room and declared that she had won an award (cash prize) for being an emerging urban poet. Wow! When I asked when we'd receive copies of her work she replied with a tactful and kind paraphrasis of 'never.'

So my job today was fairly simple, and I'm glad it was. I can build a confidence that if the work done today was 'difficult,' then I'll have the opportunity to relax and put more effort into the subtleties.
First, I combined a number of literary monthlies and other publications probably from the last 5 years into larger, more mobile boxes. I labeled each one with my horrible hand-writing and a purple pen only to be relieved to see that whoever had been doing the job before I came had near chicken scratch. Anyway, I was told the other day I had beautiful handwriting (for a guy).
Next was the more permanent job of organizing books, by publisher, that had already been checked in by Zack, onto shelves on another side of the room. Publishing companies can be pretty confusing at times, so Mike printed out a list of the current tally to help me find certain names. Some publishers have sub-divisions that confuse their main name (the most common on our display now seemed to be Ecco, which is a subset of books from Harper Collins). There are yet other publishers that have series names that sometimes sound very much like publisher names and are often printed on the book binding. These are a huge misrepresentation and I spent most of my time checking the first few pages of books to make sure of the actual name.
A good deal of books in our collection were from self-published authors, some being as simple as construction paper-covered, thread-bound chapbook-style books. I'll try to take pictures of some of them soon. In our currently small collection there are a number of brand new books by brand new writers, and then there are a plethora of literary criticisms, biographies, retellings, and translations from older names (including a hardcover issue of the Iliad!).

Before I write a novel, I shall close up this thread soon. I left work a few minutes early at a comfortable stopping point. Mike mentioned that if I ever wanted to borrow a book from our collection, just let him know. I may take advantage of that; my conference work this semester is heading in a very modern direction, so I need to start looking at the state of the poetry world today.
Anna was over an hour late, not her fault of course. Her bus hit a number of pockets of traffic. We spent the week at the Met with an old high-school friend, and otherwise making tasty food and of course, award-winning cookies (or so my suitemates exclaimed).

I am looking forward to hearing from all who read. I've never done something like this before. I love telling long stories, but I'm not-so-much an expert of keeping them entertaining. So, let me hear your suggestions somehow. If you'd like other media or if you think I should focus on certain specific aspects of the work, let me know. For this first time, I tried to cover all bases; subsequent entries should be less broad.

I'll post another thread Friday night if I can. For now to all: be well!

It begins tomorrow!

Well, I'll keep this one short and sweet, because I'm still getting used to all the features here. I'm starting my internship tomorrow at Poets House. I am excited and I feel in many senses well prepared. I'll just have to bring a notepad to record things I'll most likely forget otherwise.

My boss is Mike Romanos, coordinator of the Showcase exhibition that comes once a year in April. I will be spending most of my time cataloging books and corresponding with publishers in preparation for this event. The Showcase is almost like an art exhibit; books from the past year will be collected and placed "face out" (as Mr. Romanos specifically noted during our interview) so that readers can get an idea of this year's fresh harvest. Not only will I have the opportunity to take part in this exhibition, but I will be working at a pace that will be comfortable enough to spend some time here and there reading some of the new poetry that comes in.

Please leave your comments, questions, musings, poetry, etc etc etc...