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Because Anne was fierce. The people sitting on the floor in front probably had a hard time getting up again, floored. Jen said "It's like a pistol whipping," and Anne stood there, sometimes swaying a little, and assaulted us. She never excused anyone: "When a man walks the street he is a flaneur, but when a woman walks the street she is a whore." "Since then I've learned 6 people are a riot." "The police haven't had a raise in 3 years. [...] The police are hugging Guy Fawkes." "Scott Walker." "The Brooklyn Bridge." So many lines from the history of the future.
Then she floated us a revolution, a smile. I hugged my purse tight. For a long time after, we'll nurse our bruises.
Tonight we'll do this again, in Philadelphia. Nice segue: Ryan Eckes is of Philly. This morning I'm reading Ryan Eckes's book /Old News./ (How to make italics in this phone app?) And I will have more to say about this later, but for now here is a poem from it, which he read:
Jen has this postcard in her bathroom:
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This coffee is so good I'm getting another.
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