The first East River Reading Series was a huge success. I came in early after work, had an Irish coffee. Lovely rustic tables and lighting made from shorn metallic nets wrapped around a light bulb. Checked in on Kraines as he was getting mentally prepared and kept him company. The barman was a werewolf…

Such gifted poets! There were no seats left and hardly even any space to squeeze through on the floor. These poets’ writings were so, so beautiful, and they themselves were beautiful people. Morrison and Pond were especially captivating (both having been best friends since they were five years old), Morrison’s poems brimming with longing and loss, Pond with a reading style that can only be characterized as seductive intimacy.

There was a great deal of humor scattered throughout, and as well, a deliberate void of academic tonality (not to say of passion, vitality, seriousness). Refreshing.