Day 11: Minneapolis
UPDATE!
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O Minneapolis! City of public art and jaywalkers!
To be in Minneapolis is to wake up early in the library of a cooperative house but to not remember you are in the library of a cooperative house because you stayed up at Lyle’s Liquor Lounge until 2am talking with your old friend who rollerblades to his job designing sustainable urban architecture.
To be in Minneapolis is to wake up and walk West to Lyndale and then South with last night’s pizza still in your teeth until you get to the Ashbery bridge, the Ashbery bridge which is profoundly moving early in the morning and where you see a hawk fly over the interstate and where you cry for inexplicable but understandable reasons as you watch the hawk fly.
To be in Minneapolis is to park your poetry bus in front of the Walker Arts Center to read in the garden beside sculpture that says you are impoverished in an impoverished age but the sculpture you read beside does not say for how long you have been impoverished or for how long you will remain so.
But the readings will be beautiful, especially Chris Fishbach’s reading, and then there will be more readings inside the Walker which will be stunning, in no small part because your mind can wander to the Paul McCarthy art when you can’t hear the poetry for the echo even though you’ve never liked Paul McCarthy at all but there it is anyway and it’s lovely in its way.
Minneapolis where you feel you must apologize for smudging the pavement with your brains after you’re run off your feet by a biking graphic designer (if only in your mind).
Minneapolis where Catherine Wagner meets you, where Joshua Marie Wilkinson says goodbye, and where you leave the next day for the poetry farm.
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any pics of minneapolis??
An absolutely gorgous day for the garden readings, which is quite a feat for Minnesota, you just never know.