Monday, October 6

I hope Franz Wright won't dismiss me because Aaron is my friend. I'm worried now about the company I keep. Will we ever be able to overcome these social boundaries? Oh, Franz Wright, you don't even know me!

In an attempt to be fair, I would like to point out that there are a lot of people who don't know me. Stella McCartney, designer-daughter of Paul does no know me. Tony Kushner, whose play Homebody/Kabul I may disparage or applaud, does not know me. Jack Black does not know me. Nor does Jack White. The guy who does the weather on Fox News does not know me. Etc.

Friends, there are a lot of people out there. Even Nick Piombino doesn't know me. Really. That's the nice thing about this world. So many people we could come to know. I'd just hate to have doors close like that.

Franz, I promise I won't judge you by your friends. Maybe not even by your poetry. Nick, you are being held to a higher standard: I found your book Poems at a used book store in the University District out here in Seattle and plan to take it on the plane home to read when the old lady next to me asks if the yarn I am knitting with has any angora in it and could I please put it away? She is having a bad reaction...

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