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Journal, Day 53 October 27, 2006: Seattle, WA / Bill Wesley, the bus driver I left home (the Green Tortoise bus yard in Oakland, CA) on July 7th deadheading a bus to Anchorage, AK with a crew of two other drivers, then drove two 14 day camping trips around the state, then drove that bus down to Seattle, to await the arrival of the Poetry Bus. During that time I called my boss, [...] by

Journal, Day 52 October 26, 2006: Portland, OR / Bill Wesley, the bus driver I’m sitting in a doughnut shop in Portland when Joshua and Linas come in and ask me to go back to the bus to re-enact for the camera the many times Joshua has gently woken me with coffee and doughnuts/scones/muffins in hand—thanks Joshua! After my nomination for worthy performance as a lifeless [...] by

Journal, Day 51 October 25, 2006: Portland, OR / Bill Wesley, the bus driver It’s a little hard to leave Ashland, both mentally, since we had such a gracious and welcoming host, Vincent Craig Wright, and physically, as I had a bit of a tough time extricating the bus from the narrow alleyways and streets, requiring Joshua to get out and watch my back and sides for me while I [...] by

Journal, Day 50 October 24, 2006: San Francisco, CA & Ashland, OR / Bill Wesley, the bus driver I wake in the Mission with coffee on my mind, and more than just my first blog to be nervous about—I’ve written four poems and it’s highly likely that I’ll be reading them in Ashland tonight, after driving 350 miles and bringing the Poetry Bus very close to the 12,000 mile [...] by

Journal, Day 49 October 23, 2006: Los Angeles, CA & San Francisco, CA / Edwin Torres It’s Saturday night in LA. “I look fabulous, for someone my type,” sez the starlet on the rooftop bar . . . looking for a drink from this experimental poet. “Yes you do,” I said. She held out her hand, “I’m sure,” she cooed, and so began a meaningful relationship of 30 [...] by

Journal, Day 46 October 20, 2006: Los Angeles, CA / Edwin Torres We’re in a bowling alley today . . . I mean, we’re in a back alley hackshop . . . oh wait a minute, we’re in Santa Cruz today. Well, the bus is but I’m not . . . I join the caravan on Sunday and will spill my guts to you fine folks on Monday. For now, let’s imagine that I’m on board and let’s see [...] by

Journal, Day 45 October 19, 2006: Los Angeles, CA / Jen Bervin I’ve been getting two to four hours of sleep each night (jetlag/epic days) since Sunday and it’s officially catching up. I’m run down. I slept on bus in the Excalibur Casino parking lot, woke at dawn, and started drafting and redrafting the final collaborative Los Angeles poem on the bus typewriter. It felt [...] by

Journal, Day 44 October 18, 2006: Las Vegas, NV / Jen Bervin We woke up in the Econolodge in Flagstaff to brilliant cold and free waffles. The headlines in the morning papers: “Baking Bread Still Satisfies” “Arizona is the Dumbest State” The Guardian in London wanted something from the Poetry Bus so the Remington Quiet-Riter typewriter at the back of the bus has [...] by

Journal, Day 43 October 17, 2006: Flagstaff, AZ / Jen Bervin So little language in the sacred but so much else. O Roden Crater. With hearts full to bursting in space I saw my friends. Yesterday I wrote “Precise and glacially patient.” James Turrell at the scale of the intimate and immense. I want to tell you about it but there are no English equivalents. It holds you, [...] by

Journal, Day 42 October 16, 2006: Cassis, France, en route to Phoenix, AZ / Jen Bervin So I am not in anywhere USA nor am I crammed on a bus with 50 cities and 50 poets. I’ve been in France at the Camargo Foundation in Cassis, sewing large-scale composite studies of Emily Dickinson’s manuscripts and swimming like there’s no tomorrow to swim in. I’ve never had such a sea [...] by