Sorry to be out of touch!

Really! I'm not just saying that! There's just so much going on over in Creative Writing World  what with new students and new books (congratulations, Glenn and Mark and Kevin!) and new faculty (hi, Christa! hi, Caroline!) and interviews on NPR (good job, Glenn, you sounded so, like, sophisticated yet homey) and cooking to do for the MFA meet-&-greet (thanks, me!) and whatnot that I've been a tad busy.

But---of course---not too busy for the Tenants. Sorry, Tenants, if I made you feel that way.

So I promise to do better. In the meantime, here's a poem. You like poems, right? And you know this one, probably. It's been on my mind.


Whose List to Hunt, I Know where is an Hind
  Sir Thomas Wyatt

Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,

But as for me, hélas, I may no more.

The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,

I am of them that farthest cometh behind.

Yet may I by no means my wearied mind

Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore

Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,

Sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind.

Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,

As well as I may spend his time in vain.

And graven with diamonds in letters plain

There is written, her fair neck round about:

Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,

And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.