As usual, Patricia was “wow.”

After an intense women’s open mike and a short break, she read a mix of old stuff and new, including (by request) “Skinhead,” which I don’t think I’ve heard her read in — Jeez, eight years maybe? She also did, once again, “34” and once again made me tear up.

Glad I went.

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Every time I complete a project, I find myself staying away from writing poetry for a short bit — two or three weeks, usually.

That’s happening right now, in the aftermath of preparing and premiering “Jim’s Fall.” Almost as if the effort it took required a break to cool down a bit.

I’ve learned not to worry about this, but I still feel the tug of the phantom poem — the one that’s not there but makes you think it is. I’ve tried to capture this one once or twice, and it’s been fruitless — so I’ve learned to let it go.

For someone who writes everyday and tries to get a solid new poem together two-three times a week, it ain’t easy.

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More later — early morning and a day of errands ahead.