Domain, demesne, down but not out.

Happy Birthday, Patti.

Note: Celia the Poet is down for the moment but should be up again very soon.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE ME

1) weapons
2) crowds
3) ignorance

THREE THINGS I DON'T UNDERSTAND

1) math
2) the 40 hour work week
3) shutter speeds

THREE THINGS I'D LIKE TO LEARN

1) how to play guitar
2) sound engineering
3) Italian

THREE THINGS I AM WEARING RIGHT NOW

1) purple turrtleneck
2) glasses
3) old jeans Jae gave me

THREE THINGS ON MY DESK

1) Nietzsche's calendar
2) City Honors coffee mug
3) blue seven-day candle

THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE

1) own a house
2) publish a (real) book of poems
3) end corporate control of our culture

THREE WAYS TO DESCRIBE MY PERSONALITY

1) serious
2) kind
3) creative

THREE BAD THINGS ABOUT MY PERSONALITY

1) Can be judgemental
2) sometimes too introverted
3) Stubborn

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE

1) Alsatian
2) British
3) Polish

THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MY BODY

1) long fingers
2) my hair
3) the pleasure it brings

THREE THINGS I DON'T LIKE ABOUT MY BODY

1) fragile in some ways
2) my crooked eyebrow
3) limitations

THREE THINGS MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU

1) I have a Masters Degree
2) I've written several (unpublished) novels
3) I'm secretly 42, and have been since age 12

THREE THINGS I SAY THE MOST

1) There you have it.
2) And then some.
3) Could I have another?

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO

1) Italy
2) Hawaii
3) Mayan Ruins

THREE NAMES THAT YOU GO BY

1) Celia
2) Ceece
3) Poet

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE OR HAD

1) celiapoet
2) RedWitch
3) comfortgarden

Singing My Head Off At High Speeds

I got the urge for going and headed to Boston for most of the past week. I attended a conference, dined & drank with my former neighbor, Peter, and watched some of Angels in America on HBO in my hotel room.

Maybe best, I drove at high speeds, singing my head off by myself in the car. Nice as this was, I realized I've been travelling by myself most of my adult life & it would be nice sometimes to have a companion. I got a little (okay, a lot) sentimental driving past the Pioneer Valley, where I attended college. The blue snow, the pine forest, the too much wine.

Glad, tho, to be home with hysterically happy dog, no snow at all, homemade pesto primavera. Great dreams in which the bookstore became not only theatre but gallery and studio space. Kristi was making something with canvas & slabs of wax, and there was a bed in the corner where one could lie down between bouts of art. Yes, that is life in Buffalo, for me.

Singing quietly but very much in tune, ambling the frosty streets.

Celebrate St. Cecilia’s Day!
Saturday, November 22, 2003, 3 p.m. - ?

Gather at Day’s Park with instruments for musical collaboration,
improvisation and the honoring of music and musicians in our
community.

Bring food, drink to share.


St. Cecilia is the patron saint of music and musicians. “And
music shall untune the sky….” – John Dryden, “A Song for St.
Cecilia's Day, 1687”

In the news:

The experts have finally named my inability to do math: Dyscalculia. It's always funny to me when I'm relieved to have a label or fit into a statistic, but in this case, I have 7 of the 11 traits listed here.

I am collecting "hot chocolate recipes" to celebrate this: Hot chocolate brews health benefits.

I lost my digital camera in San Francisco and I miss it every day. However, I am playing with my tape recorder again and making mixtapes, one of the best pastimes in my world.

I'm teaching 10th graders 4 days this week--eek! Haven't done anything in this vein since 1998 or so. Looking forward to it, except for that no autonomy, scheduled, getting up at butt-crack of dawn thing.

Saw two movies I didn't love: Talk to Her (great soundtrack tho) and Pieces of April (happy ending with no words or resolution? Not my style.)

Otherwise, lots of late nights up to no good, mostly feeling very good and then not feeling very good at all. Horoscopes indicate sweeping change. That's for sure.

Kteela and I went to see Lewis Black tonight.

This is one of the best pictures in the world. Here 90-year-old Keiko Fukuda, the world's highest-ranking female judo master, demonstrates a throw on pupil Vicki Trent [currently the highest-ranking student in Fukuda's judo club]. (via scullion.net)


I was here last weekend. Doing this.

Also this:









(Photos: Jill Corrall)

While in SF, I also picked up two books I love: Linda Gregg's Too Bright to See and Alma, and Nelly Reifler's See Through (stories). I went to Hampshire College with Nel, and we took many of the same writing classes. She was great then; she's great now.

Happy Samhain!

My mistress stands out behind!

This is one of the funniest things I've encountered in ages: "Baby Got Back" translated into Latin.

Also some activity in the Po'log....

I went to the beach.

Been Swingin' on the Web....

...yep, cleaning out my internet bookmarks, some of which date back to my first PC, a Dell I bought in September 1998....

Anagram Server.

A POKED EMERY NEST
A POKED SEMEN TYRE
A DONKEY SEEM PERT
A SMOKED PEN RET YE
A SEEDY PETER MONK
A SEEDY KEEN TROMP

Nerdslut is worth checking out regularly....Latin for Breakups! The Guide to Dating the Obscenely Smart is amusing too. ("Well, Actually You Said...": Dealing with The Elephantine Memory Owner)

Electric Company Songs of the Day is worth gold. "Clang Clunk Clatter Click" used to be a fave of mine.

Apparently Spork.org (The Slightly Less than Official Spork Page) and Brunching Shuttlecock have moved on to better things. (BS archives are, happily, still around.)

Oh my god, Margaret Cho has a blog.

"What you talkin' 'bout ARNOLD?!!! Yo Terminator!You need to stop goosestepping up to the gubernatorial race because you have to terminate your campaign. What the fuck is wrong with you?...I got nothing against Austria. I got mad love for Vienna Sausage and shit, but you need to stop grabbin' on ladies and wipe that steroids eating grin off your face."

Sin! Win!

The Royal Flush Casino opened last night in the space formerly occupied by Rust Belt Books....


Protesters were in evidence, though this did not distract The Great Christini from working free of her bondage....



The Manager, Mr. Brian, was on hand to make sure the workers were honest.....



Gamblers were entranced.


Free drinks for gamblers!


Also featured was a Get-Married-Quick Chapel, replete with drop-down bouquet on a chain.

"The red rose, which tears its cloak to shreads--I, for one, know its motive." --Rumi

Cutest dog

September Leaves

Bury me beneath the September leaves
I won't mind the cutting cold of the breeze
Leave me there till the frost quiets the trees
I can feel the fall coming on....

--Katie Miller, "September Leaves"

I will take what joy I can....

I harvested the basil today.



This is what is known as a Very Good Day in Celia-World.



Then I made five batches of pesto.



Then Jae and I made pesto cheesecake. We don't get to eat it til tomorrow. This is what is known as a Minor Agony in Celia-World.

Autumn Day, by Rainier Maria Rilke

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the
evening,
and wander the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.


Translated by Stephen Mitchell,
"The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke" (Random House)

Other translations of this poem can be found here.

***

Life'll kill ya.

Moonshadow

Monlight's so bright tonight the clouds are lit. Dogs have been barking all day. I've put on a mix of Cheryl Wheeler, Neko Case, Jaia Suri, Cindy Kallett to evoke some peace. Will eat the last of the Guinness Chocolate Cake.

Sunday, I shall learn (and disseminate!) the Secrets of Allentown.

Haven't been doing much with my August nights, but I sure do stay up late.....



I've been redecorating the kitchen.


And cooking with the fresh basil growing outside my door (and chives and cilantro and Spanish walking onion....)


And hanging with the Goddess Golden Paws.

Super-Celia


Make your own at: Hero Machine.

Been having an exceptionally pleasing time at Friendster (beta).

Threat rating: Medium. Your total lack of decent
family values makes you dangerous, but we can
count on some right wing nutter blowing you up
if you become too high profile.


What threat to the Bush administration are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I love Neko Case.

"People they laugh when they hear you're from my town
They say its a sour and used up old place
I defended its honor, shrugged off the put downs
you know that you're poor, from Tacoma
Buildings are empty like ghettos or ghost-towns
It gives me a chill to think what was inside
I can't seem to fathom the dark of my history
I invented my own in Tacoma..."

--"Thrice All American", could easily be about Buffalo, New York....

I love those grain elevators...oh, Buffalo, you're my home.

"Not wounded, sir, but dead."

Oh, Katharine Hepburn has passed.

"I think most of the people involved in any art always secretly wonder whether they are really there because they're good-- or because they're lucky."
--Katharine Hepburn

Katharine Hepburn is one of my favorite actresses and persons, and it will always be so.

The Philadelphia Story (much of which I can recite by heart), Desk Set (I am a librarian after Bunny's own heart), Pat & Mike, Long Day's Journey into Night .....

More words from the Wise Woman:

* Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.

* Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get — only what you are expecting to give — which is everything. What you will receive in return varies. But it really has no connection with what you give. You give because you love and cannot help giving.

* Without discipline, there's no life at all.

"I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love." --Frank O'Hara

Here are a few things I believe.

"Defense is one's duty; aggression is an act of madness." -- Anonymous

EMPOWERMENT, not EMBITTERMENT.

NOT QUESTION, BUT STATEMENT.
NO STRING OF WORDS IS MY CHAIN.

I love who I love and nothing seems to change that.

Bathtubs should have thermometers and timers and built-in trays.

I still love pyrotechnics.

A new chapbook

Suddenly today I put together my new chapbook manuscript. I also have a "real", full-length manuscript in the works, too, plus a young adult novel and three non-fiction books, but anyway...

I think it's called Sip.

Last time I laid out a chapbook (gad, this is my 5th, and I still suck at it, have to do everything 4x) was at Yancey's in the Inner Sunset, my second week in San Francisco. Just before I left SF, I had drinks with Kim Addonizio there.

People sometimes query, why (what with) the one word titles all the damn time? I, who am usually so strivingly precise with words, cannot quite say. Phrases charm, but it's still individual words which have meaning, for me. It's why I still writhe away from Language poetry. It's meaning I always want, I don't care if its beautiful if it's true, something I can know & learn from & be expected to accept.

This from the girl who still can't do trigonometry.


Poet's hand on Mission Street (quote from Jack Micheline)

**

Hey, I'm reading at Rust Belt Books on Allen St. in the B-lo at 7 pm tomorrow, with Susan Peters and Jorge Guitart, each of whom taught me when I was a wee snark wordmeister, plus music by Stu Shapiro. Should be amusing. Did I mention my intention this summer is to read only fresh from the notebook stuff? Come one, come all...and run off weeping! Fun for the whole family! Thank you, I practice at home.

It's Summer in Beautiful River

and organic coop strawberries are ecstasy
and I rode my $10 bike today, whee!
and I like to sweat
and it's the season of fan mail (hi, Xavier!)
and I swept the alley and pulled some weeds
and I had a delicious sandwich from Soul Lievito
and I saw friends all over the village
and I wore the cowrie shell earrings I bought at Allentown Fest West this weekend
and it's bliss to take a bath at 2 pm with the breeze coming in the open window
and this minute I'm one of the happiest people I know

Googlism for: celia white

celia white is the tobacco control archive digital librarian
celia white is a poet
celia white is not me
celia white is a poet and librarian currently living in san francisco
celia white is another marie
celia white is a real find
celia white is celtoy whicor of planet caffeine
celia white is the author of three chapbooks
celia white is a poet and fiction writer who "sunlights" as an information terrorist
celia white is

Vote for Edgar. Restaurant worker by day, Presidential Candidate by night...also moonlights as a jazz musician.

Making the Mind an Alley?

Sean came for a visit, bringing handmade puzzle and holy book. Much fun was had by all.

Most of Tuesday we spent seeing art: the Masterworks show at the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, plus my usual faves: the Rothko, the Pollock ("Convergence"), the Anselm Kiefer I fully adore ("Die Milchstrasse/The Milky Way") and then in the first proper thunderstorm of summer visited Michael Morgulis in his studio at the Tri-Main Building, a huge factory on Main Street which still houses factories as well as studios, non-profits, and art spaces.

At Hallwalls, a fun show: The B-List: Brooklyn, Angst, and Desire. My absolute favorite are Beth Campell's poetic diagrams, "Potential Future Based on Present Circumstances" (an example of which can be seen here; last image on the page.)

A great late night at the bar. "Your friends are great," Sean said, somewhere around 3:30 AM. Yeah, he got a backrub, free dream interpretation and the company of some of the best people in town. I love my town.


From Michael Morgulis' Buffalo Series.

Summer Writing List--join up! Here's the first prompt and my response....

What is summer to you?

My sexy friend. Kissing me
when no one's looking, when everyone's looking.
The cool dapple of rain, of leaf shade,
and hot breath keeping me awake all night.

A bliss of oblivion, a little sizzle.

"There is no intellectual solution to the problem of suffering and pain."
--Questioning

A much needed reference

The Index of Godesses, arranged by category.

I Miss Me, Too.

“I’m not a government, I’m a religion.”
“That makes me not a citizen, but a devotee.”
--a conversation between lovers, some years ago

It’s me! Goddess, poet, librarian,
heavy tipper, prolific emailer,
patter of dogs and children,
hair smoother, phone call returner
although I hate the phone,
groovy music digger, soul woman,
avid researcher, ferocious reader,
damn fine dinner maker, purveyor of vivid language,
believer in progress,
second-hand shop shopper, recycler,
loyal friend, truth teller,
sipper of rain from the roses.

And that’s me, too, way over there,
grumpy girl, speeder through the city
even when it’s raining, sneaker listener spy,
late-stayer at the darts game, phone call screener,
self-righteous opinionated pacifistic political hothead,
devotee of AM soul radio, resources waster,
smarty-pants, contemptuous of the uncaring, avoider of cats,
salt shaker stealer, and then some.

I am Celia, rocker of worlds!
I am Celia, fierce and tender, oh so serious & still such a goof.
I am Celia, scribbler of poems,
humble on the path of this vow,
the path I make wherever it is I walk,
in this passage of pain and wonder.


Photo: Jill Corral

More from my heroine, Patti Smith.

She did indeed play The Sphere for 3 hours and 3 minutes last Saturday night. I was belly-to-the-stage for all of it, grabbing her ankle when she went by (because she wrote about doing that to Brian Jones when she saw the Rolling Stones) and giving my love & adoration to Lenny Kaye (yes, I heard those riffs from "Poppies" in "Not Fade Away") and enjoying the occasional spray of spit or water from the golden throat of the poet. No, I'm not kidding.

It was ecstasy.

Since last week, I have been dancing wildly, often, and have been happier than in months and have felt free, felt proud, felt accomplishment, felt loneliness & grief, sadness & longing but I know my life is my own & I do love it. I'm very lucky. I love my town, the town Patti said to cherish. She understood the energy, immediately.

And Lenny gave me his golden guitar pick. Thank you, Lenny. I also got a splintered drumstick, which I'll use to continue to draw power to my town, with which we can change the world for the better.

I've been busy. Details to come.

For the moment, a few pictures from one of my proudest moments ever (had several, this week): Brian Lampkin and I performing at the People Have the Power rally organized by Democracy Rising here in Buffalo, where we opened for Patti Smith and Ralph Nader....


Photo: Diane Gall-Meldrum.


Photo: Diane Gall-Meldrum.

Wishlist

I'm not proud.

rains all night & there's birdsong in the morning. all day the sunshines like she means it. a young robin appears to be wished upon, her mind turning to thoughts of worms. the early leaf balloons. the human body warms. one might say the skies bleed, or cry.

But no. It's Spring. Nothing dies.

Fun Reference Sources:

The Dictionary of Nonverbal Gestures, Signs and Body Language Cues.

Phobias List.

Interesting tobacco document experience of the day: references to both Sub Pop and Iggy Pop can be found in tobacco industry documents.

Tried in vain to take pictures of the beauty of the ice-sheathed trees, especially enchanting at night under the streetlights. Anna said today that was one of the first things she ever wrote a poem about, when she was a young girl.

But Papa was in the house last night....



And Kim Preston sat in at John Allen's invitation....



I still feel lucky to be here, home.

I also initiated my new darts. Bull's eye in the first round! I think of them like tarot cards; imbue them with your mojo.

101 slogans from the SF Peace March.

Creepy Valentines. And then some. Jill, check out #38 on the second page.

Wage Peace (Judyth Hill)


Wage peace with your breath.

Breathe in firemen and rubble,

breathe out whole buildings

and flocks of redwing blackbirds.

Breathe in terrorists and breathe out sleeping children

and freshly mown fields.

Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.

Breathe in the fallen

and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.


Wage peace with your listening:

hearing sirens, pray loud.


Remember your tools:

flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers.


Make soup.

Play music, learn the word for thank you in three languages.

Learn to knit, and make a hat.

Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,

imagine grief as the outbreath of beauty

or the gesture of fish.

Swim for the other side.


Wage peace.

Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious.

Have a cup of tea and rejoice.

Act as if armistice has already arrived.

Don't wait another minute.

This is just to say...

Salon has made Lynda Barry comics a subscriber-only feature & that's just too cruel.

Pleasures

Important to list them in this cold climate & darkness.

San Francisco trees. This is beautiful, and mirrors an idea I once had of a page of flowers of San Francisco.

Astrology.

Listening:

Nickel Creek. Saw them on Austin City Limits the other day and was hooked.

Undercurrent, Bill Evans and Jim Hall. Simply, some of the most beautiful music I have ever heard.

Watching:

Dog Show.

And lots of other crap because I now have cable.

Consuming:

homemade (is there any other kind?) tuna-noodle casserole
black beans & rice
tofu & veg with peanut sauce

Gots to love it

The Rap Dictionary.

Mazeltov-ville!

Smitty's book is up on Amazon!

Austin's book is also doing well....

And I had a poem published in the Buffalo News.

To Be Read on the Occasion of my Nephew's 18th Birthday

This is so good I think I'm going to try to write one of my own. Why don't you give it a go, too?

My favorite bit? 'If someone calls you defensive, never blurt back, "No I'm not!" '

Between the Blows

"Lucky life isn't one long string of horrors / and there are moments of peace, and pleasure, as I lie between the blows."
- Gerald Stern

I am tremendously lucky, in so many ways I could never name them all. I am home, I have my friends around me & they'll do whatever they can to help me. I love and am loved. I have the best dog in the universe. My health is good. I like myself. I have all I really need. I am proud of my skills & accomplishments. I can cook & buy myself flowers & get rested, get massage, get out for a dose of live music or some library books or some good food when I feel sad.

Last night I made candles with my friends, had delicious Chinese food in honor of the Year of the Sheep, and I did good work at my job.

What is difficult with me is that when I am sad, I am only ever comforted by insight, or a crystallization of a thought I feel to be true and useful. No drug or experience or person or object or sensation can be guarranteed or even likely to do this. For me, most often, writing and talk with someone I trust do it.

I'm not complaining about being sad, mind you. I think there's worth in some sadness. My sadness seems often to help me get at what I think, and to find something true and useful.

May it do so always and not first or more quickly be the poison it sometimes seems to be.

Another Urban Epiphany is afoot....sign up now!

Notes from the Reference Desk

* I get more proposals and invitations for dates just for helping people find information they need than I ever do in the real world. It is a pleasure to say, "Oh, thank you, but this is my job, and job satisfaction is sufficient." (I guess that's a pretty librarian-y response, as well.)

* It is a very bad idea to assign a premenstrual librarian to many reference desk hours at the beginning of a semester.

* At least I am mostly working weekend evenings and during the Super Bowl, when the place should be dead quiet.

* People who love books often say they wish to be librarians, which has become more & more ironic as the library environment evolves further toward the thoroughly digital. (For the record, though, I do not believe that "traditional" books will ever be obsolete.)

* Since most periodical indexing only goes back a century or so, digital databases & indexes came along just in time and are the best thing since bottled wine. Consider the alternative: paging through a hundred or more volumes of a single source index (say, to the New York Times) to look up a single term, only to have to go through a hundred more for another source. I fell in love with print indexes at a young age, but even I hit my limit when I realized how much more efficiently it could be done with technology.

Army of God easily outnumbered in the City of Good Neighbors!

In freezing snowy weather, no less. That's my town. Stamina, yo.

Toronto

Got so stir crazy in the cold & limbo that I decided to visit Toronto in the sub-zero weather. Had a lovely time, visiting and having Ethiopian food.



In the restroom at the resto.



At the Cadillac Lounge (a kind of Elvis-y, honky-tonk place), we caught a great band, Taxi Chain. Their music was, we concurred, completely uncategorizable ("the funkiest nagpipe combo on the planet"), featuring mandolin and tenor sax and a bagpipe. Sometimes folk would get up and jig. Those crazy Canadians.

I ended my visit in the best possible way, with a few hours in the hot tub and sauna at the Elmwood Spa, followed by a massage. Not quite Kabuki, but lovely.

***

Everytime I go to a spa or retreat, I find I am consumed with thoughts of starting one myself. I know exactly what I like and what I don't. I like a little soft music. I like a whispering rule. I like clothing-optional. I like it not to be like a gym. I like a cold plunge. I like the little extras: cold water with lemon in it, cucumber for the eyes, washcloths, free soap & shampoo in the showers, free q-tips, lotion, some sea salt to scrub with in the steam room. I like some weak green tea. I like to be outside a bit sometimes. I liked the terry robes at the Elmwood, the elegant brick building. I like massage to be available but not mandatory. I like no time limits. I like it to be a little bit dim, not too flourescent or chlorine-y.

One day....

One good turn deserves another

I parked like a jerk last night when I came home from the Jazzbird gig, but I didn't realize it till this morning. Drove to work, and saw that some minivan driver had also parked like a jerk, taking up two spaces in our already desparately crowded lot behind the library. I parked 3 lots away, grumbling, but while walking to the library passed a car with its lights on. Knowing the corollary that cars with lights on often also have an unlocked door, I tried the driver's side & sure enough, found it open. Switched off the lights. Walked on feeling more cheerful.

So many emotions lately--impatience, desire, frustration, restlessness, boredom, longing to be of help. Planning a jaunt to Toronto this weekend in hopes that a change of scenery will soothe my soul a bit.

I Am

Which tarot card are you?

Virtual Prayerwheels
by bhikku

It's been cold here....

and frosty:



It even snows inside the car!

"If you can see your path laid out
in front of you step by step, you know
it's not your path. Your own path you
make with every step you take. That's
why it's your path."

--Joseph Campbell

Nude Women for Peace.

Epiphany

Yesterday was the Christian holiday of Epiphany. Aptly, Joe Todaro and I have begun preparations for our own festival of consciousness, Urban Epiphany. It will be held April 27, 2003 at the Unitarian Universalist Church at Elmwood and West Ferry in our beautiful city.

For those who don't know, Urban Epiphany is a community gathering of all local poets, each of whom are invited to read for two minutes each. This takes some hours, during which folks come and go, laugh and cry, get caught on film & generally have a better time than they expected to. Because Joe and I are both Tauruses and I am a librarian and Joe so helpful, the event is almost frighteningly tightly organized, which damn near guarantees a good time for all, but requires that if you want to participate, you contact us early, like now.

The Candy Man Can

"Remember what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he wanted:

He lived happily ever after."

--Willie Wonka

A Little Tenderness

l love my town. An hour of darts at my bar. Meanwhile, defrosting the fridge, and a quick trip home to check on drip and dog. A little groove to Stevie W.'s "Superstition." Then back out with Jae-boy ( technically a girl) to Mohawk Place (where I always seem to drink too much & cry) but where Mike Campagna & the Average Johnsons were playing, with my pal Liz Abbott sitting in to sing. And John Allen, playing sax, which can never be beat unless Kim Preston is in the house, in which case they should duel.

Mike asked me up to do some of my poem "Kali Yuga" at an instrumental break. (There is clear reason I've been watching music so avidly for going on 21 years, but it is not only this...) I spoke, shouted, sang my bit and stayed onstage with Liz to sing some back-up and sat back down to huge applause, more than most poets ever see but this is my town, it's my town.

And now it is just shy of 11 pm and I have ravioli on thew stove & real Grandma Guercio red sauce which no one could ever be sorry to consume. Ella Fitzgerald & Blondie on the jukebox. This is my life & I am happy in it.

Unrequited love...I can relate.