It seems my only wish, ever, is to get through the stack of books on my bedside table. You know, the stack that’s about twenty-three books high now and is ever-growing. The stack that’s a smorgasbord of new and old and prose and poetry. A sampler:

1. Don DeLillo’s White Noise

2. Sylvia Plath’s Collected Poems

3. Ocean Vuong’s No

4. Indivisible (Banerjee, Kaipa, & Sundaralingam’s Anthology of Contemporary South Asian American Poetry)

5. Mark Strand’s Hopper

6. Eula Biss’ Notes from No Man’s Land

7. Jamaal May’s Hum

8. Matt Rasmussen’s Black Aperture

9. Matthew Zapruder’s The Pajamist

10. Emilia Phillips’ Signaletics

…but something tells me even that abbreviated list is a tad ambitious.

I’m also particularly excited to see Blue Is The Warmest Color, Kill Your Darlings, and Anchorman 2. (And no, I’m not ashamed. Stay classy, San Diego.)