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recreational vehicles on the tongue
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[subject line = a riff on Jane Ormerod's "Recreational Vehicles on Fire"]

I participated in a poetry reading yesterday night at Nashville's Global Education Center. It was hosted by Thandiwe Shiphrah, who is a delight, and it was great to meet (and listen to) Jane Ormerod (very strong rhythms, both aurally and visually -- and, there was something wicked right about a black-clad woman with an English accent chanting "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash" on a stormy night in Music City) and Ice Gayle Johnson (who performed a new poem about being in NYC on 9-11-01 as well as an older one about the day after; I was especially struck by a section about not being able to step off an elliptical machine, as well as [from a section on airport security] "Are you afraid I'm going to cut your hair?").

Heartfelt thanks to Joanne, Declan, the BYM, and the others who showed up in spite of the foul weather.

What I read:

Definition: Need

Making Candy

Baked Apples at Miss Mary Bobo's [originally published by flashquake]

Refuse [aka how visiting Jerusalem could turn a believer into an atheist]

By Way of Sorrow

Afterward [what happens after "The Owl and the Pussycat"]

Sonic Crochet Hook [Jane, a native of southern England, waved wildly when I asked if there were any Dr. Who fans in the room]

Goose Goose Duck [forthcoming in the next Uphook Press anthology, which will be titled gape-seed]

As She's Dying [originally published by flashquake]

The Language of Waiting

Why I Up and Left In the Middle of a Sermon and Drove Out to Sit By a Lake

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