Friday night the Queens Low-Residency MFA readings ended with a short story by Elizabeth Evans and a short film by the poet Claudia Rankine.
After, there was an informal end of residency party at the hotel bar. I have no affiliation with the program. I teach undergrads at Queens, but my girlfriend Heather is getting her poetry MFA, so I ended up in hotel bar with an overpriced Jack & Coke and after explaining that no, I wasn't in the program, I had two extended conversations. Conversation one was about Flight of the Conchords, Six Feet Under, The Wire, and Lost (I should stop watching TV). Then, a more literate conversation was about our shared respect for Blood Meridian and Smonk and ended in a recommendation for William Gay's Twilight. And I got to chat with Heather's friends, one of whom inadvertently gives me ideas for titles that have stories bubbling out of them every time I'm around her--sometimes it feels like stealing, but then I am related to a horse-thief, so what can you do? This time it was "The Meat Tank." Beautiful. I want to follow her around with a notepad, but fear that might be disconcerting. Though several residences ago there was a bar fight, this night ended sadly violence-free.