Snow Misered!

Gentes perezosasosas!Donde estabas?! Dormiendo! Roncando!Mira eso!Welllll, we stalwart woke up, all ready for the live readingwe'd scheduled months ago and have been looking forward to eagerly eagerly eagerly, woke up and looked out the window and there saw a giant puffy white blanket covering the City, and so we thought, What a loverly piece of timing.What the hell?!So I, dutiful editor, called up one of our peons, I forget his name and told him to trudge downtown, carrying big bagof Asinine Love Poetry books and an Asinine Cupid throw pillow to sell, just in case. "Go to the reading, " I told him, "just in case anyone is crazy enough to show up." It was a quiet City, he later reported, white canyons, with cleared valleys, and so he walked in the powder-lined streets to the Bowery Poetry Club. Friends came from close by and miles away. And more amazing than anything, Marybeth Niederkorn and her spouse extraordinaire show, having flown in from Cape Girardeau, Missouri. For this! For asinine! That is bravery! That is dedication! But you, oh now you were less than 15 miles away, home, sleeping late. Oh the subways were running slow! Oh, it was so hard to pull on boots! Such a pain! Hey, Niederkorn booked a flight, lost two lighters to Homeland Security, and worried about her poor cat being watched over by some strange lady whose name sounds like a human-cat hybrid. You know what I'm talking about! So the crowd was small, about five people,but it was good fun, the four readers going in turns as the peon emceed. Sold no books! So we docked his pay. Then the poets went next door and thought about beating upthese other poets they saw, but then they just got drunk. So, we'll try to reschedule for warmer weather, but no promises! And thanks much to the Niederkorn!