Tonight there is so much I’d like to add here. So much of the day, so much of the night. So much of the rounding about in the world, Paris, underground and above, in the newspapers and offices and meditation halls, the kitchens and hallways and restaurants, in the chambers where poets roam in miraculous landscapes of words, in the magic darkness and light of the film realm.
So much of the moment and then it’s gone.
Perhaps enough for now. Just a few words from Anne Waldman, seamlessly fast and deep and wild in the sky and on the earth thriving in the song of words for the benefit of all and bowing:
dakinis sit on my shoulders
elephantine rage
vajra nipples
mistress of the keyboard
no slut to life
I’m the woman who dreams