Eating with Poets

I've eaten, I guess, with a lot of poets.

My friend Janice Pang, a fine poet, used to have folks up to her spectacular rich-person house above the golf course for elaborate lamb roasts and the like. I always felt out-of-place, under-educated, under-traveled, and under-sophisticated at these parties, but the foood was something else.

On my first date with my ex-ex-girlfriend (a poet) we ate at a faux-cajun-trailer park sort of place. A dive, but an elegant, trashy dive. I don't remember what I ate. We had several glasses of wine.

I used to cook for her a lot--though she wasn't often appreciative. I'd spend three hours in the kitchen making some extra-special meal and then carrying it precariously on my bicycle to her house, and she'd report that someone else (insert name of friend here) had just dropped by with some store-bought soup that she ate and now she's full and isn't my friend sweet for bringing me food and oh! you brought food. Honey, I've got to (rest, grade papers, insert excuse here).

More recently I've eaten dinner with the following poets: Aaron Belz, Nick Twemlow, Robyn Schiff, Joshua Edwards. More on these meals soon.