After hearing Jean Valentine read

Emerging from the Blacksmith House she isn’t quite alone there is a brown rat scuttling and

it’s raining lightly, the sidewalks and streets damp and she is deciding to walk to the subway up Church Street but changing her

mind she is contemplating the longer walk up Mass. Ave of several blocks and it’s not really raining is it she has hardly been on her feet all day and she’s

just seen this wonderful poet who reminded her of everything, for her it all seemed to come so easily like breath, yes, she really just wants to get to a desk and

release this somehow this what, yes, she is walking with purpose her mind racing it’s all connecting, synapses firing brilliantly if only she could connect up with

the great continuum but she can’t even manage a thank you to whomever it is who holds the door for her before she catches it in time to step out into the

wet.