I seem to be going through a phase I can only describe as “Southern”.

I have always said that I don’t want to go to a Writer’s Conference with poets only. But this was a Festival and therefore different.

When you have an unlimited choice of restaurants, why go anywhere but a truckstop diner? Not only will you get great food but you'll get a poem or two.

Not my last blog post ever, just my last one until after Sunday, at which time I will have turned 54. And I have such a young sounding voice!

Like a lot of my poet friends I tried to write 30 poems in 30 days in April for National Poetry Month...

A poem by Obododimma Oha

When I hear my boyfriend giggling in the other room like a little kid, I know he’s reading Gale Acuff.

Professor X noticed Student X weaving down the hallway towards him.  Drunk, perhaps?  Not Student X, thought Professor X.  There must be some other explanation.  And so he intercepted him as he veered toward a corkboard scrambled with out-of-date announcements.  Are you OK, Professor X asked, looking into Student X’s saucered eyes.  Oh yes, said Student X.  I just left Professor Y’s class.  I’m just a little stunned is all, I...

If I knew how to write a book review, I would review this book so everyone would buy two copies, keep one and give one to a friend.

I’m very excited about traveling up to the Writers Institute in Saratoga Springs this evening.  It’s another hot day here in Albany, and so I can’t wait to feel the cold as it confronts me while walking directly into one of the College’s many auditoriums that have air conditioning.  In my humble abode here in the city of Albany, I only have the use of a couple of fans, which usually takes care of the heat problem,...