choice. i am not a poet. i don't care much for. i don't spend me weekends read anything writing. i like to have cocktails but i do not have a drinking problem regardless of what state i wake up in. i don't need drugs to open up my imagination. i am not a poet. i can tolerate half an hour of spoken word poetry. what my cats are up to. i always carry my business cards. i am not a poet, i only write

to masture bait my mind. i am trying to convince myself that poetry it save lives. it's the dust of art. and i am going to close with to poet. americano. i look at myself in the mirror. trying to figure out what makes me an american. i see chickens. practicing religions without a roof. i see my own blood. proud american blue genes labels. i see them sits outside with

the eyes of an alley cat. i see myself trying to be more like james dean. i see carlos san tanna. more than sporadic latino explosions. as american as bruce spring teen and elvis presley. i see taco bell. i see purple, red, blue, green, orange. i see cheetah revera on broadway. as american as the lee's, the kennedys. none sound american to me. i am not a shamed.

jose can you see. i pledge allegiance to this country. land of commercialism. if i can win gold medals. if i can sign my life away. ain't no language. this is my country too. i believe in free dom and diversity, need to get the hell out. [applause] >> i have one more performer. can you believe that? i am so excited. he is a very kind man to be

here. he's a total icon. tales of the city. his book that was made do a city. he's here on his book tour. thank you very much. well, i would not have missed this evening for anything. you and i both know these things can be boring. not tonight. i like to read, since i'm back home from a tour. i would like to read the chapter that my editor wanted

me to remove. i have to set it up for you. michael toliver is 55 years old. they have gone to florida because his mother has died. and they have been out to the rest home, to the bear bar in orlando. they meet a black bear, that is a husky african-american guy and the guy basically propositions

them. proposes a three way. they decided he seems like a great guy. they tell him about their b and b. the innamong the flowers. it doesn't mean anything because it was camouflage night at the full moon saloon. we felt compelled to tidy up.

and reaging toilet. you force him to shower. we stashed it in the closet. he grabbed a razor and headed for the stall. you better be faithful about it. it's down right inhospitable. he was dressed in a while, v-neck tee shirt. nothing. just wondering about the dress code. where your dress pants.

you look hot in those. did you see my ring? i swear you would lose your head if it wasn't attached. this was my mother. i wondered if her death would release me or if i was doomed to norman bates territory. he will be here in five minutes. half an hour later, after i squeezed. we were awkward as wall flowers. the lamp was already blazing with intensity. my growing hard on

>> he seemed amenable. he got cold feet? may be he lost interest. ben shrugged. who knows. i would be with us in the second. i am serious. don't you feel abandoned. it's a three way honey, i don't think two people can feel abandoned. he might be late. i looked at the clock again. 25 minutes. only hustlers can get away with that. he's not a hustler? ben turned and looked at me. you think i bought us a hustler?

how pathettic tic do you think we are? >> i sort of felt like he targeted us. i didn't get that sense. may be i'm wrong. ben smiled. you are disappointed. no , i said, no just annoyed. he pulled down the waist band. i don't need a mercy suck. he looked up. mercy suck. whatever. undeterred ben got down to business. mercy i said, there was when mr. johnson knocked on the door. you may have figured it out by now. to us, he was still the great

dark man. a mythical man or object to desire. it was probably why we jumped to attention. jesus. tucking the incriminating evidence. wait. let this go down first. >> why? i don't know. seems rude. ben widened his eyes at me. did you learn that from miss manners. i hid myself. this probably made me look grand. that somehow seemed preferable. men opened the door.

he was standing there. i'm sorry fellows. come on in. our visitor shot a quick glance. can we get you something to drink? remaining seated. there's a soda machine. no thanks. did you have a hard time finding us. i'm michael i said. finally standing. this is ben. he shook our hands. i'm patrees. i am worried that it might make me squirm.

i found it hospitable. that it put he more at easy. we're glad you came. patrice smiled. ben caught my guy. he began to rearrange the forskin. it seemed to swell. when he removed it, he said, i open it's okay. i'm sort of a kiss pig. no problem. as i caught my breath.

ben removed. he reported getting a big laugh. i should tell you something. i am used to this moment arising. i tried to make it easier for him. we always play safe. so it's something else. we waited for the penny to drop. i do your momma's hair. this simply did not compute. ben looked up at him completely open mouthed. what he murmured. i do his momma's hair. in this moment of raw

revelation. the obvious pride she showed in her new hair dresser. i thought you were a woman. how did you about who we were? >> she has a picture of y'all in her room. y'all by waterfall. she talks about you all the time. jesus said ben. what are the chances of this? patrice shrugged. why didn't you say something

earlier? they ain't going to happen with your momma in the conversation. i liked the way he naild that down. i felt bad about it later. i almost didn't come. i need a break from here and it might as well be y'all. how often does he get her hair done. i do her make up too. you cover up the blue. she has emphysema. she got to worrying about it. it must have been lennor.

she looks really good. i like to work on old ladies. no one objected. he pulled me closer. within seconds he had us both in hand. like an eager barby doll. sorry. every now and then, my own visuals overwhelm me. then he went down on both. i can understand why my editor didn't want this. then we went down, never

neglecting either one of us. ben pulled my face into his and kissed me. in a three way, there's always the danger of being left out. i never felt unwelcome on the ride. by the time we were naked, by the time i shot my load, i rolled it on to patrice. he came on all fours. never touches himself. i know because i was under neath, catching the flash. ben stayed there.

his heart beating hard. then my cell phone rang. it's programmed to ring like an old 40's ring. leave it said ben. from the middle of the panting stack of men. nobody move said ben. there was a brief silent. or at least when i do. sorry. that's okay said ben. patrice rolled off the bed. then he flickinged it into the toilet. what's this? his head was on my which of the now.

that's an orchid. it keeps coming back. one with of those extra touches that mean a lot. he stared down at this offering. it don't look right somehow. i know. especially with a condom on it. he cleaned up at the sink. he started gathering up his clothes. hang with us for a while. busy day tomorrow. >> my other job, bacheloret

party. i strip for private parties. that's what this is for. he was stepping into his fatigues. apparently impressed. it ain't worth the bus fair half the time. patrice shrubbed. if a sister has a plate of ribs, there's no way to held her attention. ben and i laughed. i'm serious. tickled to his response. i am up there working my ass off and they are sitting down

there with their press on nails. tough crowd. they say they like the mens, he drew out the last. but they don't like the mens like the mens. they don't tip as good either. he came to the bed until we came his naked book ends. he laid there for a while. be well my brothers. he said at the door. [applause]

good even and welcome. jack hirschman. he has been a poet in san francisco from 2006. his powerful voice set the tone, his latest book, "all that's left". >> my voice is a little untuned. very simply so they are not any question of anxiety or worry. on march 14th, i decided to take an operation on my

carotted artery and therefore. i don't want to go out by a stroke. i would rather go out another way. the operation was perfectly senseful. there wasn't pain. they put a tube down your throat. so i lost my voice for a month or 2. therefore, i ask your indulgence. i will read in this voice, if you don't mind.

i am very pleased this book came out. i am going to read with the war. the war drug on. die after die. so shares and shout so jibes, nor many a steer of so cult exist and jams, juice, gins over in his tomb. tears over borrowed good as well. and future is dust and

smothering. the war i rock is a masked, sad gem stone of war kings and people. and fear must without heaven, over a toga pot. that's import that war boil. that's bile that gag or jail roomy and oath and the war is cocked. air and fuel the plague and watch him of his hunter of ash guard down the stinking hole. they were shacked up from to be

done. >> [applause]. >> this house of hunger, for the american kids who go to sleep each night without supper. this house of hunger has millions of kids in it. breakfast and lunch is all their worth. famished of billions of bucks in them. what pretty prophets have set before king's death. they stink with the stench of unmitigated treaty. their indifference included in their digital speeds.

while those kids lie in bed without a cup of bullion in their head. also kill the children, american you shootful. and the murders you plant in your own backyard. keep insisting your democracy. but in the starving darkness, those sad, lost eyes know the truths of your lies that you sold all the marbles in their little sacks to the bullies who applaud because they won't give them back. you have stolen the bread that cried from their mouths and ed