I am reading tomorrow night at City Art. I am also sick. I have been revising a small batch of recent poems for this reading. I am also sick. Did I just say that twice?
Me, to the historian: I maybe don't have faith in these poems.
Historian: (waits, as he has, perhaps, heard me convey this sentiment before.)
Me: ...but maybe that's because I'm sick.
Historian: (radiates total compassion and understanding. Also understands that he's possibly better off waiting this particular conversation out.)
Me: ...but then I often feel that way about my poems?
Historian: (through ESP communicates that these poems are, and will be, just fine.) I hate to see you feeling so bad--do you need me to get you anything?
Me: (sigh.) No.