I'm carrying this one around with me - up and downstairs & in the car & out into the garden.

One or two people have asked me 'who to read?' and 'where to start?'. I think this book answers both questions.

And here's a poem from 'Night Scenes' I tracked down via (http://www.opencity.org/jarnot.html).


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Self-Portrait


Fifty-seven dollars and the four
cents I left on the desk in room 118,
not much else a half a cup of tea,
unfinished books, some phone
numbers, the Wolf Man, tenacity,
one cat, at home in Brooklyn
with the spiders and also 7th
Avenue, the basement of Macy’s,
the L train, the hello lady at
the Korean market on 14th
Street, hardly any smoking of pot,
was thrown out of the Charleston,
have a wheelie-cart for my luggage,
two tranquilizers, four Prozac,
minor elk viewing, movie stardom,
and the greatest waves of
happiness this sixth day of July.

(Lisa Jarnot)


*

Poems like this bring your days into focus.

*

P.S.

(am I right in seeing a fox behind the stars on the cover? Or do I need to see my optician?)