The other night at the Heyde Center I explained that over the years I have developed two groups of friends: The pickup-truck-and-gun-rack crowd, and the artist/dancer/poet crowd (or, the pale-and-tortured contingent). They need not be mutually exclusive, but often are. This is a shame, as both continue to enrich my life in ways I never dreamed.
Anyways. (As we say in pickup-truck circles.)
Way back when I first started going to poetry readings, I wrote a poem in which I tried to explain to my new poet friends why I so loved the pickup-truck-and-gun-rack life. I performed it the other night at the Heyde Center and a few people have asked if it’s in print anywhere. It’s not. As poems go it’s not much of one, but it’s a blast to perform out loud.
So I’ve posted it after the break. (more…)
