Often we see books as signs of civilization. I take in their tree trunk roots and inked spines and think only of the sky: (books belong in the wild)
Captivated by conversation, tapas and wine, attendees were enthralled by the night. In a literary wonderland reflected through timeless glass, everyone bubbled. Princeton Library celebrations were led by live classical music, auctions, vendors, food, dancing, and free poetry. I’m honored Typewriter Poetry played a small role in the enchantment, even if it was for one night (and one night, only).
Most of the people I typed for at last year’s Artisanal LA event have blurred together in memory. Even still, there is one fellow I have no intention of ever forgetting. He came over with a friend. She wandered off to take pictures as he and I began to talk. At first, we did the basic Typewriter Poetry dance. He asked about the project, I answered with my usual bases covered. Soon, something shifted. He sat down on the floor. I halted my work on another person’s poem. We dove into our hitchhiking and traveling stories; afterward, he shared his love of robotics and electronics with me.
On Friday the 13th, I had a very lucky day hitchhiking. A beautiful family picked me up on the side of the road in Lihue, Kaua’i, Hawaii. They even gave me $10 for the bus fare. I left them this original poem underneath the bus bench they dropped me off at…hopefully they received it 🙂 Mahalo!
prompt: “I have traveled the earth with only a slight, compact bag at my shoulders that held a camera, enough clothes for tomorrow. I have dwelled and dined in cities where a constant flow of human traffic streaks by, as seen through a window. I have wandered endless fields that Read more…