during a layover in JFK, the contents of my unreasonably priced sandwich fell onto the floor. a Salt Lake City Uber driver had water in his car. & mints. M I N T S. i stayed in a room painted to look like a river trout. i went to 7-Eleven at two-thirty in the morning to get snacks. i ate Doritos & animal crackers because i am actually five. note: Salt Lake City does not have Moxie, nor do (most) Salt Lake City residents know what Moxie is. i watched some of my favourite people read poems. i ate Pie Hole pizza & talked abt good music to write to. i obtained a Matt Hart / Rachel McKibbens split poetry 7". i ate donuts gloriously drenched in honey butter. i almost gained access to the rooftop of the library this time, but the door was being locked as i got to it. i read & heard poems in a hotel courtyard, & later in a hotel lobby (until 3am, obviously). i brunched with a lot of poets. i ate a good vegan scramble. i had In-N-Out for the first time in two years & it was exactly as perfect as i remember. i heard poems around a campfire, ate soup & rice, & stayed up too late, with radical babes at The Mansion. i was reminded that i need to watch Pulp Fiction. during a layover in LAX, i lost half a bagel to the carpet & misplaced a bag full of mini donuts somewhere between the bathroom & my gate. a child kicked my seat for exactly three hours before crying that their ears felt "bad." i understood.
what a gleaming weekend. what a perfect sunburn. i met so many people. i'm reminded what it is to be an artist, what it is to come together with common ethos, what it is to regularly have conversations beyond small talk, what it is to be a part of something bigger, something more important. i love you, Utah. i miss you already.