With gleeful ‘remorse’…

by

Having fallen off the wagon:

a low trick, I’ll result to rhyming verse.

Next time I go out at night,

i’ll update this thing first.

 

No, there was no new poetry yesterday. It was a  crazy day, as I’m nearing the end of my tenure here at this job, and thus have to wrap everything up like a frantic nesting mother-to-be. …I’m not sure if that’s an appropriate metaphor.

Regardless.

Normally last night I would have thrown up someone else’s work so as to vindicate myself, but instead I ended up at 826 Valencia at an event promoting a new book from McSweeney’sUnderground America, Narratives of Undocumented Lives. I haven’t gotten a chance to read it (my booklist is supremely long, and I’m far behind because 9 to 5s DO THAT to one’s summer reading… grr…) but from what was read last night, it’s a pretty powerful piece of work. Check it out if you get the chance.

 

Also, not to name any names, but one of the featured readers (who wasn’t affiliated with the book, but is familiar with the issue and from latin america and famous) spoke some damn fine spanish. Possibly because that’s his native language. I have a weakness for well-spoken spanish, man…

 

Left the mission, a weak-knee’d blush:

forget for the moment that you’re thirty.

Oh, that stupid peru ‘fro-

how it caught sticky eyes.

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