Some of my favorite poet people came to Boston this Saturday. Some of them read good poems in a gallery, e.g. Julia, like a doll on behalf of itself:
Also Justin, getting immense pleasure out of reading his sent emails:
Some of them just drank a lot and exposed themselves. That was equally satisfying.
These are my knees:
Aren't they hot?
Not pictured: Sam, Paige, Mathias, Heather, Janaka, Brian, Chris, Kim, Mary, Jeremiah (who hates me), Cindy, Julia's shoes, the guy Chris stabbed with a live cat, the girl with the mustache shirt, the martini glasses we sorely misused, skulls in assorted sizes, vomit, Corey Feldman, etc.