Look what the cat dragged in.
Did your family say that?
Some did.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm in-- there's
a lot of death in this book.
I don't know what that--
I think the idea is that within everybody's life,
they actually die at some point, so it's become
like a character in my poetry.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm in some movie about death.
This rainy night, pull your hood off, and get inside.
The eerie splashing, silence of it, each eerie step.
No, I do not want to get on your bus.
I'm locking my bike.
I thought about them tonight.
I could try.
Go on a journey, see everyone.
No one does that anymore.
And then we were all in the room--
the Zoom room.
And that's why I was thinking of them because they were there.
I don't know them at all.
I could make the effort.
I'd be known as them that came that one time.
The whole city gleaming in my head, wet and black.
I'm out in it with my groceries.
I don't even want you now.
I've got to say this.
She showed up late, and I thought,
look what the cat dragged in.
It meant we were close.
And there they were in my head.
That's where they live, feeding me things.
Look what the cat dragged in.
Would she know it was love?
Would anybody?"
Actually, I'm so son--
I fucked that up.
"Look what the cat dragged in.
Would she know it was love?
Would anyone?"
Not anybody.
Anyone.
I'm sorry.
[APPLAUSE]
Oh, thank you.
And I think one more from this book.
How am I--