home is...

Here, Billy Collins is asking about where I teach school.  He seems amused…or just tolerant.  Maybe he can sense that we only paid a buck at the Friends of the Library book sale for that first-edition we’re having him sign.

I did, however, get to meet him pre-reading when he was trying to find the restroom. That single event sealed our friendship and every other time he saw us that night, he’d say “you again!” 

I particularly liked when he read this poem:

OH, MY GOD

Not only in church
and nightly by their bedsides
do young girls pray these days

Wherever they go,
prayer is woven into their talk
like a bright thread of awe

Even at the pedestrian mall
outbursts of praise
spring unbidden from their glossy lips.