I was introduced to read a week ago at the Bowery Poetry Club…Cafe? Are they just BOWERY POETRY now? The particulars I’m not very familiar with because, surprisingly, it was my first time there, ever, in my 10 years in New York scribbling down the sideline chatter on the subway in the margins of my books, finding an acute little poem that comes from both the conversation and the words the conversation is transcribed next to. My introduction is prefaced withThis won’t make sense to anyone but me and she goes on to introduce me with two lines of poetry to which I respond at the mic, What do you mean? That totally makes sense. It’s always about me.