Exhibit 1.6.7

There is a NIGHT within the NIGHT

These wolves know what he's talking about. 

I saw Frank Bidart read once and don't remember thinking a single thing about it except that maybe his black blazer was a little too big. I'm sure he was great. Honestly, I have almost no memory of it happening, almost don't trust myself in thinking it did happen, and, hell, maybe it didn't. Maybe we were just at the same place and he didn't read. Maybe I read. Maybe there's no such thing as reading. Maybe my black blazer is too big.

(That last one is almost certainly true).

But I'm pretty sure I'd remember if he'd read "To the Dead" which, maybe, is a famous poem? I have no idea. I know nothing about Frank Bidart, the dead, "The Dead," poetry, nights, readings, or anything that happened before this word. I do know I like it though and that I used it in my fiction class.

(Also, Nick Flynn's "Emptying Town." I've got a weird fiction class).

But you should read it here and listen to him read it--presumably while wearing an appropriately sized blazer--here.

Frank Bidart! Who knew.