Mark Anderson is my second cousin and a hardworking Spokane poet guy. (Mark and I are both 23rd great-grandsons of Chaucer, by the way. Someday maybe we’ll collaborate on The Spokane-turbury Tales.) The guy in the wheelchair is Travis Naught, another Spokane poet phenomenon, whose book I blurbed and with whom I did a reading recently. The author of the article is the father of a four-year-old boy who has the hots for my four-year-old daughter. (Keeping my eye on you, son.) “Intentional facial hair” is a fine turn of phrase.
Those people scare me. Poets are unpredictable. Get drunk and start fights they do. Bash my face in like the blond guy in Fight Club. They get that look and I’m thinking, it’s now time. Will I stand tall enough?
Hi Fucker
It’s interesting how the Green Lake Tavern guy has the same avatar as Big Jon, Bully. Shit, now I’m getting scared!
Spokane-turbury Tales: delicious. Can they be told by pilgrims making their way from the Cathedral to St. Al’s along the river walk?