don't let me gets better

I don't know if you regularly read the Roaonoke Times, but at one point
someone i know was there in all his blazing glory . . . thankfully, the
article wasn't about me, but rather about what he and a woman coordinated
at the Library. Word's gotten out that they were working wonders in these
kids who get up to read their poetry in front of their peers. The
attention paid to this article has lead to an increased interest in poetry
in the area. But here it is several years later and I believe the
interest waned.

He received a phone call back then from the office of an organization of a
local basketball pro team called Razzle Dazzle that began a "Hero of the
Month" series which they announce/tout at the basketball games, and in
that month, the library poets were in it. they sort of self nominated
themselves. That means (among other things) that they got a good seat at
the game during which they were honoredd, wre presented with an award, and
were touted/announced over the loudspeaker at the game that night during
one of the quarter-periods. All of this, of course, meant extra publicity
towards the Teen Poetry Night at the library and other poetry events such
as the slam. It also meant a press release about them sent out and made
available to all the press who were there--TV, radio, newspaper. He made
SURE to connect to both the library and the Slam, focusing on himself as
little as possible. He already felt like a deer caught in the headlights
with all this attention.

His mail-bombing of Gay Roanoke Chatroom also finally payed off-- they
were having some "out" poets and audience members attend.

He was busy cranking out new poetry, prepping for his new chapbook: A
local bookstore said they'd print him a hundred copies once I finished it.

His life was good. VERY good. The poetry scene was good. Very good. It
seemed almost surreal, now. his mood swings were managed to bring mostly
under control by making sure he was eating right and getting enough of the
right nutrients (especially certain minerals--he was able to determine
that he was terribly low on several minerals that affect mood and
energy--notably, calcium, magnesium, and potassium. By eating foods that
provide these minerals, he was finding that he felt a lot more stable.)

I guess that about sums it up. He was growing up. Maybe the poetry scene
was too finally growing. It felt so good just to be doing that. The
attention was nice, but what's even better was knowing that the seeds we
planted were bearing fruit. A bumper crop is its own reward.

And here it is five years later and I see almost nothing in the way of a
crop anymore