But the experiment I was talking about was a less physical one. I've never been quite happy with the way the poems on these pages are organized. (You're about to see the truly compulsive side of me). They're organized by year, primarily. But within that, they're organized alphabetically. Now this is good in a practical sense, in that it's easy for *me* to find a given poem. I know roughly what year it's likely to be in, and I generally remember the titles. It was a useful default, when I was setting the system up. But it's not really logical; either entirely chronological or entirely alphabetical would make more sense, probably. And still, neither of *those* would really address what would be useful to readers. Oh, they might be vaguely interested by chronological, but surely there are better ways to organize these?
The answer, as any good librarian would tell you (and yes, I have the soul of a librarian; my two primary career goals as a kid were librarian and astronaut (I abandoned librarian when a neighborhood librarian solemnly informed ten-year-old me that no, he didn't actually get to read all the time; astronaut fell prey to weak math and bad eyesight)), is to cross-reference. So, rather than redo my entire system, I started putting in cross-references. I thought of various themes that might work for readers, but decided to start with the easiest -- by person. So now the Kevin poems are referenced in chronological order. I'd be curious to know whether y'all think this is at all useful before I go nuts with thematic cross-references. Of course, even if it does nothing for any of you, in some sense, it pleases my sense of order, so I may do it anyway. But I *am* curious. :-)
You can either start at the beginning or the current end. Or somewhere in the middle, I suppose. Those of you who dislike poetry, please feel free to skip this assignment. :-) I'll eventually come up with something for the fiction, no doubt. (Ah, the tempations of a hypertext environment. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist them for long...)
1:00 a.m. Compulsiveness took over and I added links for David and Jordan. Should go to sleep soon, as tomorrow morning Kris picks me up and a whole horde of us head up to celebrate her birthday with a day of wine tasting.
One last poem:
FringesAt the edge of the fabric we hang, swinging freely
over the drop, hearts in our throats, hearts in
our hands. Roadsigns long since disappeared;
so few songs and tales to light the way, here
in the outer reaches. It is frightening,
being first. Lonely too, and there is always
the possibility that we are truly lost; that we
are not simply searching the best route; that there
is no pass over these high mountains.
Should we turn back? It's warmer near the center.
But oh -- the clear cold beauty of the mountaintop
at night, under the unforgiving stars... it is
easier to breathe here, isn't it? Am I wrong?
I know. You're tired. I'm tired too. My legs
are so sore these days. Here...let's build a fire.
We can stop for a little while and rest in the light.
We can decide where we're going next in the morning.
But you know -- I'm pretty sure we're not lost yet.