the earthquake woke me up. foiled my plan to sleep nine hours tonight.
i was in the middle of dreaming about hosting two giant poets at a giant night-time reading on the beach. it was big. everybody was there. i was worried we didn't have a mic and i had no introductions, but then i dj guy appeared and all kinds of mics and machines and wires appeared, then i saw k. silem and it waved hello and passed me two 45s to give to somebody. people kept pouring in, piling on top of each other on the sand. did i mention this was at night? i went back to the stage where the dj-appearing man was already playing music, pumping everybody up, and the song stopped but he occuped talking to somebody, or unplugging something and plugging it back in somewhere else. so i looked around a saw a little suitcase turntable on a chair near a microphone (there were a lot of microphones), so i moved the mic a little and slapped down the b-side to one of k. silem's 45s and dropped the needle. i was cool. everybody was together. we were all in love and expectant to hear two great poets. it could not matter at all that i had no idea what i was going to say to introduce them. everything was beautiful.
4 RIDERS:
As soon as I read this post and your link, we had another earthquake. Coincidence?
(mumblemumblemumblemumble)
the earthquake woke me up. foiled my plan to sleep nine hours tonight.
i was in the middle of dreaming about hosting two giant poets at a giant night-time reading on the beach. it was big. everybody was there. i was worried we didn't have a mic and i had no introductions, but then i dj guy appeared and all kinds of mics and machines and wires appeared, then i saw k. silem and it waved hello and passed me two 45s to give to somebody. people kept pouring in, piling on top of each other on the sand. did i mention this was at night? i went back to the stage where the dj-appearing man was already playing music, pumping everybody up, and the song stopped but he occuped talking to somebody, or unplugging something and plugging it back in somewhere else. so i looked around a saw a little suitcase turntable on a chair near a microphone (there were a lot of microphones), so i moved the mic a little and slapped down the b-side to one of k. silem's 45s and dropped the needle. i was cool. everybody was together. we were all in love and expectant to hear two great poets. it could not matter at all that i had no idea what i was going to say to introduce them. everything was beautiful.
then my bedroom shook, and i woke up.
you just keep it up, clay. poetry loves you.
As soon as I read your reply this morning, we had another earthquake.
Poetry is fucking up geology.
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