Best of the Best
BEST MOMENT
September 6, 1975 Billings, Montana when I was sitting in David Wharton’s childhood home with David. We were sitting across from each other in the living room, right in front of the picture window. I had my camera and of course, I took a picture of the moment.
BEST OUTCOME WHILE TAKING A BIG RISK
While traveling by train from New Jersey to Jamestown, Rhode Island, I met Michael Fogel. He asked me to meet him in New York City at the end of my trip to go to the ballet at Kennedy Center. I said I would love to. When Henriette had to give me a ride to catch a before-dawn train from her place in Vermont, she was very angry because she couldn’t talk me out of it. She was sure he was a mass murderer and I would never be heard from again. She was wrong. (May 1975)
BEST MEAL IN A FANCY RESTAURANT
August ’91, while in Vancouver, British Columbia, Becky Cary, Bob, and I got the best seat on the balcony overlooking the street activity at a Mediterranean restaurant. Everything was so grand. The conversation, the presentation, the weather, the excellent luck at getting the table that we got, and the food was to die for. I even took a picture of our desserts. (This was the first time I shot my food before I ate it)
BEST POEM
Charles Bukowski’s poem, “alone with everybody”, LOVE IS A DOG FROM HELL
The flesh covers the bone/ and they put a mind/ in there and/ sometimes a soul,/ and the women break/ vases against the walls/ and the men drink too/ much and nobody finds the/ one/ but they keep/ looking/ crawling in and out/ of beds./ flesh covers/ the bone and the/ flesh searches/ for more than/ flesh./ there’s no chance/ at all:/ we are all trapped/ by a singular/ fate./ nobody ever finds/ the one./ the city dumps fill/ the junkyards fill/ the madhouses fill/ the hospitals fill/ the graveyards fill/ nothing else/ fills
BEST AFTERNOON
Spring 1974, Wesleyan campus in Lincoln, in the grass, west of Johnson Hall
Pam Peden and I threw down a chenille bedspread over the barely sprouted spring grass and sprawled out with our Norton’s Anthology. We read poems out loud to each other, watched other sunbathers and Frisbee players while the sun heated up the bedspread until it smelled like earth.
September 6, 1975 Billings, Montana when I was sitting in David Wharton’s childhood home with David. We were sitting across from each other in the living room, right in front of the picture window. I had my camera and of course, I took a picture of the moment.
BEST OUTCOME WHILE TAKING A BIG RISK
While traveling by train from New Jersey to Jamestown, Rhode Island, I met Michael Fogel. He asked me to meet him in New York City at the end of my trip to go to the ballet at Kennedy Center. I said I would love to. When Henriette had to give me a ride to catch a before-dawn train from her place in Vermont, she was very angry because she couldn’t talk me out of it. She was sure he was a mass murderer and I would never be heard from again. She was wrong. (May 1975)
BEST MEAL IN A FANCY RESTAURANT
August ’91, while in Vancouver, British Columbia, Becky Cary, Bob, and I got the best seat on the balcony overlooking the street activity at a Mediterranean restaurant. Everything was so grand. The conversation, the presentation, the weather, the excellent luck at getting the table that we got, and the food was to die for. I even took a picture of our desserts. (This was the first time I shot my food before I ate it)
BEST POEM
Charles Bukowski’s poem, “alone with everybody”, LOVE IS A DOG FROM HELL
The flesh covers the bone/ and they put a mind/ in there and/ sometimes a soul,/ and the women break/ vases against the walls/ and the men drink too/ much and nobody finds the/ one/ but they keep/ looking/ crawling in and out/ of beds./ flesh covers/ the bone and the/ flesh searches/ for more than/ flesh./ there’s no chance/ at all:/ we are all trapped/ by a singular/ fate./ nobody ever finds/ the one./ the city dumps fill/ the junkyards fill/ the madhouses fill/ the hospitals fill/ the graveyards fill/ nothing else/ fills
BEST AFTERNOON
Spring 1974, Wesleyan campus in Lincoln, in the grass, west of Johnson Hall
Pam Peden and I threw down a chenille bedspread over the barely sprouted spring grass and sprawled out with our Norton’s Anthology. We read poems out loud to each other, watched other sunbathers and Frisbee players while the sun heated up the bedspread until it smelled like earth.
posted by janaree at 7:32 PM
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