13 June 2012

This Is A Poem By Greg

I met Greg the first day of the three-week. The poets had invited the fiction writers to Ye Olde Fox Head. Far and away the best time I had ever had there, I sat talking with the poets and Galvin, their fearless leader.

I was sitting on the aisle, and Greg was sitting on my left. It emerged that he was a dancer and taught Pilates. I was like, "Where do you teach Pilates?" because I had wanted to take Pilates all this past school year. When he told me, I realized I recognized him; I had perused that venue's website and had seen his photo. And his now-defunct Pilates blog.

We talked about dance, and it must be said that too much of my end of the conversation entailed me gushing about Batsheva, themostoriginalamazingdancecompanyinthewholeentireworld.

I was flattered when Greg emailed me a short poem the next day. Here it is:

She was born a Rothschild
End of story

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