Excerpt from mail sent in 2001
I was walking near the main library when the panhandler offered to tell me a poem. His friend said, "It's darned good."
"Well, as long as it's darned good," I said.
The poet said, "I call this one..." Then he paused. Then he paused some more. He looked around, and his gaze settled on a tree. Then he continued: "Tree of Consciousness."
He then sidled into a poem. I believed he was making it up as he went along. I thought, "It's just a stream of consciousness."
And I almost said, "So a TREE of consciousness is just like a sTREEm of consciousness, only without the S and M."
But I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk about S & M with this guy, so I kept my mouth shut.
| comment? | | home |