Some good whim as well. I did a fun little colaboration with Tim Botta and ken Rumble. We each read random lines constructed before the reading. Ken's nouns were R-Z, mine were J-R, and Tim got A-J. We each read a line back and forth. A few times something happened. A few times the whim may have been too much whim. Patrick Herron read some nice offensive poems of Lester the puppet. Tony Tost read some an amazing long poem from his new manuscript. Maximalist spirtualist rigorous.
I am still digesting the word swarms (I will never digest the word swarms).
it's interesting to read new poems (or bits of poems) in public and hear other types of poems. It makes me excited to rework some poems.
I did manage to have a dream. A recurring dream. I think this is the 10th time I've had this dream (or a variation thereof). I am taken to prison for some crime. I am not told what the crime is. They won't let me talk. So I try to escape. Run run run all the while wondering the nature of my crime.
So many prison dreams. I am sure last night's dream was sparked by Evie Shockley's poem "A Thousand Words."
Overall, I did not sleep more than a few hours last night. Constant voices in my head. Constant splitting of words. Rubbing words. Naughty words (Lester's words).
The police in different accents.