Tonight I went to a rapid fire poetry reading at the Art Barn. I met William there and Alex (also from Gender class) came too.
The Art Barn is a cute little gallery near the university where they have poetry readings frequently. A lot of the young "urban" professors read their stuff there. I think they're all pretty good friends. They had lots of inside jokes.
Even the bathroom was so cute I wanted to take pictures. I walked around and looked at the art with Alex. He thought I was really superficial because he was really looking at the pottery.

They had a few really good writers that I liked. One girl stood up and did a monologue about how she'd been hired to hold Dick Cheney's hand at night because he was scared of something under his bed. It was pretty funny. Others were really explicit like my professor told us they would be.
"Is this what you really wanted?" William asked me, both of us blushing.
"Not really," I told him, although a few hours before I'd told him that it was exactly what I was hoping for. "I told you it would be this way though.."
His professor went up after that and William rolled his eyes a lot at him, because he thinks he's a douche, but it was pretty funny.
We even had cake, and then Alex said, "I must be going." It was all very surreal and fancy and really delightful actually. I would definitely go again.

There are moments, here and there, that I know life exists outside of clips of money and angry drunk customers.
I know it in the rotting leaves and cold air, and seeing my breath. It all reminds me of my head buried deep in your laundry and the kind of tears that feel so good.
I want more than anything to be in Des Moines.