What the poet said
I went to a poetry reading the other night in the Quarter, in Crescent City Bookstore, an old musty store, with floor to ceiling windows and a rickety wooden stairway and floor to ceiling shelves of books – my kind of place. I wish I could say that all that intelligentsia made Sty seem obsolete but honestly I missed his birdbrain after we were done. But there was a take away – as there always is – and that was this one line spoken from I can’t remember which poet:
Illusion is always the first pleasure.