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February 15, 2010


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This was terrific, exhilarating. I admire the adventure, the language, and the sentiments expressed throughout.

Thank you, Ken. Much needed kindness.

You had me at Harlan, Kentucky. Creeley on acid. Great ride. Thanks.

Oh my God, this is terrific. I'm laughing so hard, I can hardly type.

And with that ancestral line, no wonder you became a poet.

I can't wait for the next one.

What a great post! Thanks for sharing this.

i can't even explain how much this encouragement means to me, blog-virgin that i am. seriously, thank you.

See, Dragonious, I told you it was magnificent!

This is the greatest blog post I have ever read, and as a young person, I have read a lot of them.

that last post is what you call a ringer, folks. thank you, katie.

I loved it but I have to wonder why so many of your Dayton misadventures involved coffee.

Maybe Grant can answer that one.

great post Jerry- keep it up!

I arranged that reading. I put together almost all the UC (Elliston) readings for about 27 years. And I never heard from a single person who'd ever attended one (that I didn't know beforehand), especially someone tripping on acid. I loved this. Far fucking out, man! It takes me back. Levertov had read the night before, I believe (also in the EPA); let's just say it doesn't surprise me she was caught trying to sneak out first. My friend Ross Feld, a novelist/poet/essayist who died at 52 in 2000, knew Creeley and Levertov from way back when he was a wunderkind poet and would read with them, sometimes from the back of a flatbed truck in anti-war demonstrations in NYC. Creeley was a very important writer for both of us; I was thrilled to get to meet him. Levertov was a pill. The four of us were having lunch, and I said to Ross, "Watch this." There was baklava available for dessert, so I suggested some, but pronounced it with the accent on the second syllable, knowing Levertov would see me as a provincial needing instruction. Levertov flipped out, gave a five-minute demonstration of herself. I can still remember Ross rolling his eyes at me and the two of us roaring with laughter, while Levertov was oblivious and Creeley sweet but questioning. I remember this so well, because I miss Ross so damn much, even a decade after he's gone. And now all three of those people are dead. Yikes. There's an acid trip for you. Thanks for the Pontiac ride back to then.

This is what blogging is all about---or should be. Great read. I'll be sitting in the audience all week.

Wow, Jim, totally unexpected. And much appreciated. Very funny story on your end that coincides with mine. I just read your comments to my friend, Tim, on the phone, who remembers you from UC (he went there for a year), and of course, I'm familiar with your fine work. We had a great laugh added to the already great laugh we've been engaged in for the past few days. So I thank you and I thank you.

There's something so wonderful about drinking form the emergency eyewash--something very primal, which, as an image juxtaposed somehow with Creeley removing his sweater is almost Duchampian. In my acid days I would attempt a poetry reading--damn--you're my new hero.

you mean you would not have attempted a poetry reading? which also brings up the question: do they even make acid anymore? it reminds of that play title the summer they stopped making quaaludes.

Sorry, Jerry--never attempt to respond to a blog while talking to a student. In any case, I meant "from" not "form." And I also meant "In my acid days, I wouldn't" attempt a poetry reading while tripping...etc. Uff. You are still my hero, even though I can't spell while multi-tasking. That being said, great reading and talk the other night. You and Amy Gerstler were wonderful guests.

thanks, again, joe! we don't need third eyes at this age, we need third arms.

Why am I not surprised that Cummins was somehow connected with this? :)

bravo, jerry. i think you've captured the particular dismalness of the miamah valley. but be grateful your family stopped there and didn't head a little further upriver. if dayton was dying, springfield was DOA.

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I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
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"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark

from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman

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