I'm a Hokie

Holy crap, I'm home. A vortex of travel and talking and I am plum tuckered out. Yes, that is, I think, a very southern turn of speech. I'm running with it.

The reading went quite well, I think. We also met with grad students, workshopped their poems, and talked about whatever came up in our chat. They're a great bunch of people there. We enjoyed hanging out with them.

Wednesday night I got in to Blacksburg around 6, had dinner, then met Bob for a drink in the hotel bar where we chatted a good long while, longer than either of us realized, I think. I watched some South Park and collapsed.

Eliot was driving in from Norfolk, getting in late, so I didn't see him until Thursday morning. Up early, then, where we met up, pretended we were attending some conference taking place at the Inn and scavenged some muffins and juice and ghastly pizza roll-up type things, about which I was at first excited. But I let Eliot taste them and, well, I enjoyed the muffin.

We discussed everyone's poems, then met up with Bob, had some sandwiches, and then met with the poetry people. The Eliot & Paul Show began. A lot of laughs, only a few tears, and generally unacceptable levels of offensive comments ensued. We had a good time and I think everyone else did as well.

Some downtime, then dinner, then our reading. Bob gives awesome intro. Eliot was up first and knocked it out of the ballpark, the commonwealth, and possibly into Nova Scotia. I do despise him for his awesomeness. I followed and stank up the joint as is my usual, though I was rather proud of my miniature treatise on Def Leppard and how one of my poems had begun as a poem about them. I must have gotten a touch carried away as Bob switched off the microphone, so great was his agony. I'd forgotten to print out a poem Eliot wanted me to read (this one) so Bob held open my book for me. Thanks, Bob, for being the second-best book holder ever.

Afterwards, Eliot and I signed books. They sold out; we had to turn people away. Not that they were crushed, weeping, but still I hated to do it. I had considered bringing some of my own. Next time.

Afterwards, drinks at the bar with the gang and lots of talk. A very good time.

This morning, breakfast buffet, not worth the 9 bucks, and goodbyes. Far too short a time to hang out, but still wonderful to spend time, laugh, talk poems, and everything else that cannot be repeated here.

The phrase of the trip: "a queasy mix of disgust and admiration."

I think that captures our friendship perfectly.

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Poems stuff--here's my poem "The Numbers are Not In" over at Verse Daily. Thanks to them for featuring my work.

Here are two new poems at Keep Going.

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Most of all, I want to thank everybody at Virginia Tech for the great time, their kindness, and their support.