NYC to ATL

I'm home after a whirlwind trip to NYC. Another simple flight on another almost empty plane (I think that says plenty about the economy). When I arrived home,  I had an email from David Herrle, the editor of the fabulous online lit mag SubtleTea.com, that the new issue was live and contained a review of After the Poison. What a review!!! Read it at this link and be sure to check out the rest of the issue, which has great poetry, reviews, essays and more. Many thanks, David.

So, back to NYC...

I did my interview with Vanessa over lunch at Le Pain Quotidien on the Upper West Side. I had grilled chicken and chamomile mint iced tea, which was delicious, but I could barely eat because I was taking notes and we were talking about everything under the sun. It's always nice to find someone simpatico on art and literature. Three hours went by in flash. It bears repeating that Vanessa's forthcoming album, Joe Sent Me, really is superb. If Louis Malle were alive and making films, this would be the soundtrack. I am instantly transported to the streets of Paris and Jeanne Moreau is walking in the rain whispering je t'aime...je t'aime...

Manhattan was more crazed than usual because of the Halloween parade and the running of the New York Marathon this weekend. By the time Jackie got home from work, we were both too tired to schlep all the way back downtown to work the phone bank for Obama. As a mea culpa, I'm going to Obama HQ here in Atlanta on Monday night for the last minute blitz. Jackie left this morning for Philadelphia, where she was planning to go door-to-door for the campaign. 

Jaxx and I decided to walk a few blocks down 116th Street to try this restaurant called Amy Ruth's, which Barbara Jane Reyes had discovered during her reading in NYC. It's a "southern-style" restaurant serving up fried chicken, pork chops, cornbread, collard greens, etc. Sorry, BJR, I did not like it one bit. This was some kinda New York version of southern that just wasn't working for me. Jackie didn't like it either. The cornbread was too sweet, the pork chops were so tough I could have re-soled my shoes with them, the flavor had been cooked out of the corn and the mashed potatoes had a gritty, instant texture. So, BJR, when I finally get you down here to Atlanta for a reading, I'm going to take you for some real southern food at The Colonnade. My treat.

While waiting for my flight at Laguardia this morning, I wrote drafts of three new poems. Yes, three. I've said it before, but there is something about traveling and hanging out with other poets and artists that stokes my fire. Speaking of artists, the photo above is from a series taken by Sarah Coffman during my reading at Cornelia Street Cafe on Thursday night. You can see the entire series at Sarah's Flickr account here. Thanks again, Sarah!