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Showing posts from May, 2011

An Evening of Stuff

To the White House for an “Evening of Poetry”. Scanning the East Room, I don’t see any actual poets. I mingle about, carefully avoiding Billy Collins. I chat with that girl from 'Til Tuesday. She's overcome severe cat allergies to become a fixture on “adult alternative” radio (or so I'm told).  I ask various people if they've seen Edward Williams, and receive blank looks. One of the guests is a rapper. I try to explain to him that “frabbajabous” isn’t a real word. He gives me a blank look.

Eventually the President gives a speech. I give him a blank look. Some doggerel is read. A comedian plays a banjo (why?).

As the festivities wind down, a Secret Service agent approaches, and quietly asks me to follow him. After an elevator ride, we walk down a lengthy hallway, through a door, into a martial arts dojo. Standing there is the First Lady, with a pair of aides slathering oil on her nude body. My mind whirls. I realize she wants to engage me in hand-to-hand combat, au natu…