I have used the past few days (or if I am being honest, the past week) to focus on reading instead of writing. Sometimes you need to refill the gas tank, right? Right.
What did I read, you ask? Well, I'll tell you...I read the Hunger Games trilogy (yeah, I finally jumped on that train), then I re-read "The Summer of Black Widows" by Sherman Alexie, "Bite Me" by Christopher Moore, and then I devoured "The Gargoyle" by Andrew Davidson (so good!). It's true that only one of those books is a collection of poetry - - but to me it doesn't matter the genre, only that I am reading.
It seems imperative to expose yourself (heh, not like that you dirty bird) to as many different lives, dreams, opinions, and stories as possible. You'll never experience everything all on your own, sometimes you've got to hear it from someone else. After all, isn't that one of the reasons why people write? To share their story in hopes of connecting with someone else and pulling emotion from a complete stranger?