I was asked to read in Aspen over the weekend. The audience, sprawled on couches and leaned against one another at all levels of a pyramid-like staircase, was generous, intelligent. receptive, interactive, and prone to the belly laugh. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, there is the dark spark, the clear bead, the spontaneous, and the sense that one has just been to the church of poetry. Very often at these kinds of events, the organizer over-plans, over-thinks, over-moderates. Not so, Kim Nuzzo, who runs the show in Aspen, and never even so much as told me how long I was expected to read. A marvelous young guitarist opened the show. There was also burgeoning talent in evidence during the Open Mic, particularly the works of Tony Alcontara, Lynda La Rocca, and others whose names I'm afraid I do not recall. Saw some old friends from the festivals, and many new faces. We also heard from Lorca, Jack Gilbert, Plath, Kipling, Kerouac, and Dante.
'Is there not still magic in America? Beauty. Truth. Love. Sisters and Brothers. Full moons. Stars. Awareness. Cultivation. Community. Oh Yes. And Agape'.