Monday, March 19, 2012

Do I ask too much?

Sorry to be absent. I gave my 16th reading of 2012 on Saturday night in Northampton; my 17th is tonight in Manhattan with Carolita Johnson. I have the first chapter of my novel memorized at this point. You put quarters in my ear, and it comes out my mouth.

Brian and I had a great weekend in western Mass., sipping shamrock shakes, sunbathing in the park across the street from the hippie sandwich place, visiting Emily Dickinson's ghost. I got 6 books at Amherst Books for $36, while Brian napped on a park bench. As I exited the bookshop, I passed a man playing a harp in an alley.

Brian: How long were you in the bookstore?
Me: About an hour.
Brian: What were you doing in a bookstore for an hour?
Me: ...

One of the books I'm currently reading is this one, by Vera Pavlova:


Which I bought at Elliott Bay in Seattle because of the cover design by Chip Kidd.

Here's a poem of hers that I read on an airplane last week, coming back from my cousin's wake, and re-read, and re-read:

Multiplying in a column M by F
do we get one or two as a result?
May the body stay glued to the soul,
may the soul fear the body.
Do I ask too much? I only wish
the crucible of tenderness would melt
memories, and I would sleep, my cheek
pressed against your back, as on a motorbike...

1 comment:

gkirk91 said...

The real question is 'you were only in the bookstore for an hour?'.