I heard much about digital cameras, imaginary books, books that hopefully will not always be imaginary, the problematic objectification of humanity inherent in introductions, poems good for reading on paper vs. those that are good for having read unto you, cigarette rolling machines, and learning to accept the impossibility of remembering everybody's name.
On the subway ride home, I learned that heavyset women from the Bronx do not like scrawny British hipster boys. At all. And they are very vocal in their objections.
I got to hear Shafer read for the first time; his reading went over quite well, was very funny, but somehow he appeared to be possessed by a demonic accent-bearing force! It was all quite alarming, but he reverted to his normal speaking voice afterwards. I've been trying to find his poem about five-dollar lip-reading lessons, which he intimated was online, but sadly keep getting stuck at websites belonging to various universities, which keep insisting to me that "Shafer Hall is part of a four-dorm quadrangle," which has not been my experience at all.
Well, I expect I will see many of the people I met last night at the Four-Faced-Liar tomorrow. John Cotter will be reading; I spoke to him and his girlfriend, Jaime Corbacho, quite a lot over the evening. Jaime read at the Frequency series a couple of weeks ago, so they are fast becoming a poetical double threat.
Little list o' people I met to help me remember that I met these people: John, Jaime, Lee Klein, Brendan Lorber, Cecily Parks, Charlie Orr, Bridget with no last name, the possible Aaron Raymond, and many more.
Dan Nester had an airbrushed Wizzy D hat. Madness.
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