Moonshot’s been dark. Somebody shot out the Moon. The Moon was destroyed by the Moonotaur.

It’s okay, though; it’s fine. What happened was that I moved across the country. Then I was without an internet connection for several days, unless you count coffee shop internet connections. I was very caffeinated for a while. Now there is a modem and a cat-chewed cable trip hazarding the hallway to this computer.

So now I’m in Minneapolis. This is the reverse of my story “Moved to Florida.”

Some good news is that vis a tergo ran my poem “What You Think About in the Room Before the Room Where They Will Anaesthetize You,” which I read for the first time at the final Broken Speech Poetry Slam in Orlando. I did not sense that this poem was a log flume of success at the time, but it’s probably best on paper (or screen). You should check it out! Did you even know that sometimes in some surgeries there might be complications that require the temporary removal of part of your face? You know it now.

I heard from vis a tergo about this poem during the move, and then I saw the piece live (on my phone) in a pool bar outside Des Moines, where I sat drinking beer and whiskey with Sarah and one friend and the guy mentioned in this review of Des Moines’s Central Library. This was one of the first times I’d been back to the pool bar since the 2004 election night, just after I’d moved to Des Moines. Someone we’d never met, from out of state, came to our table and nearly threw up on us, then asked if we had any weed.


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