every time I think I want a rest from glamour I realize that’s totally untrue. like this week I was not going to go to any poetry events but I couldn’t resist the switchback books launch party reading for the divine ms. tamayo’s new tome, red missed aches red missed aches red mistakes red mistakes.

to begin with the most important part of the story, I was getting off of the subway and I saw this girl in really fabulous cowboy boots. I mean, divine. calf-high, hand-tooled, worn-in, turquoise-jeweled cowboy boots with a little red dress and a sunny cardigan and I thought, this is what lit-fashion right now is all about, & I need to write about this girl’s outfit.

I stole this pic from this adorable B*tCh'z facebook

it was not until after one of pete’s candy store’s ridic delish lemongrass martinis that I realized the fabulously-dressed girl I had followed up the subway stairs was, in fact, the headliner herself.

mlles. andrews & klaver, editorial chic in knee-length frocks, took to the flashbulb-spangled stage to introduce the poetesses of the evening, cathy park hong & jennifer tamayo. cph read quietly rebellious digital apocalypto in darling low-heeled shoes perfect for a lyric revolution before letting ms. tamayo out of the gate.

a recorded ghost of jt’s soprano sashayed through the space, reading RED MISSED ACHES READ MISSED ACHES RED MISTAKES READ MISTAKES while the lady herself read lines from her “mothers,”

& it was all girl-power goddess up in that candy shop, even before the big trick – miss raised the stakes, put a bag over her head & shook her $$$ maker like what her mammas gave her. like, no po-boy could compete with that.

on the long subway home I read [re(a)d mi(ssed aches/takes)]x4 cover to cover before I put it down. this trendy little number held together by the thread of P(articularly) M(agnificent) S(entences) ++ virgin mary kitsch pics ++ soundplay that would make every poet who’s ever lived in buffalo super-jealous belongs on your bookshelves, B*tCh3$zz.

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