Saw Robert Bly last night 
At The Hungry Mind 
Or what used to be the Hungry Mind 
But the guy sold the name to some dot com University 
Got a cool million 
To save the store 
But all that gone and as I was driving there 
I heard it's closing. No more money. 
Can't compete. Gone. 
But Bly was great. 
Maybe a 100 or so came 
All the usual suspects 
Wish they wouldn't wear shorts. 
Guy in back of me grunted at every good line. 
And a gasp at the last line from that Rilke poem. 
That was great too. 
But Bob didn't wear his old reindeer sweater 
Bob said "Been to California and they want to hear 
the usual stuff "Rilke!" "Rumi!" but I'm back in Minnesota now 
Let's hear from some Norwegians and Swedes." 
"But first," he growled (and nobody can growl better!) 
"I'm so happy Bush's approval rating is down to 42%." 
Everyone growled back. 
"I got a book here of my poems against the Iraq war. 
Printed em myself. Couldn't wait. 
I wrote 'em all about Vietnam. Same thing. 
We are still causing endless suffering with our well known nonchalance." 
And then he read. The Norwegian poet who lived on the same three acres 
Lived in a hut for 80 years. 
"Decided he would die. So, like many Norwegians he just stopped eating. 
80 years old I think. Dead in a week. Went to see him. 
Maybe he was glad to see me. Married at 65 -- which is early for this kind of guy." 
And then a Swede. "They think they're wittier than the Norwegians. Hard to tell." 
And then to Neruda... 
"Hard to fool these guys. They aren't fools as we are. Grew up in the depression. 
Not fools about what capitalism is. We always forget." 
Read a line from Basho...first line of a Haiku 
"Dog looking on ground." Asked anybody to finish it. 
"Dinner bell" someone said. 
"What are you, a Republican?" 
No, you need something that comes from elsewhere, from outside. 
Listen"...and he finished the poem. 
"Who would have thought of that? That's what I mean. That's what I mean." 
You finish it. Go ahead. I mean you reading this. 
Finish it. 
"Listen if you lived your life without praising anything, 
what good are you?" 
Then to Lorca. Lorca. 
"Here's what I have to say about him. 
There was never anyone like him and there probably never will be." 
Read from "Poet in New York." Had to stop to shudder at this line 
This other line. 
Way in the back near the cash register 
Some lady gabbing away on her cell phone. 
Bob leans into microphone. 
"Will you just shut up? 
We're trying to read Lorca here!" 
A Norwegian Ratso Rizzo. 
A man in a reindeer sweater (though not that night) 
I've read him for 35 years. 
Hey how did that happen? And I am grateful. 
Last story: "So your Japanese Haiku men would walk up this mountain. 
Fog at the top. A huge black rock. 
Then would leave a haiku there. It's what you did. 
Basho did the same. But his poem said. 
"Wind blows FROM the black rock!" 
"No-one had ever thought of that. 
"Wind blows FROM the black rock!" 
That's what you need. 
That's what you need. 
That's what you need. 

No wind from black rock in this poem. 
But, hey, I have a deadline.