Sunday, February 22, 2004

 

Went to the Frequency reading today and heard Nicole Hefner and Betsey Andrews. Nicole read from her new novel, which involved London, preemies, fiddle contests, and unicorns. Betsey read from her latest chapbook, as well as a series of new poems, the last of which is the early draft of a paeon to New Jersey, in part of which she listed all the rest stops (Joyce Kilmer: Trees and Other Poems, a Blimpie's and an ATM) along the Turnpike. She also brought her dog to the reading, which made everyone pleased. Unless anyone there was allergic to dogs. Then they would have been displeased.

Sorry I can't go into more detail, but I currently have a cold, and was hearing everything from under 30 feet of water. Shafer told me that New York does that to redheaded people. He was sort of subliminal today and demanded that Michelle, the bartender, prepare me some "tropical fun," which confused her entirely.

I snuck away soon after the reading was over, as I felt like I was going to pass out, which would be welcome. I only achieved sleep last night through the alcoholic ministrations of NyQuil. Besides, I just looked at my grand unified list of poems I need to revise, and there's twenty-one of the fricking things on it. Bah! Sleep will be my escape!

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