please have no interest in provoking ghosts philadelphia city of poets
caconrad
CAConrad1: End painting for a hospital bed warm from the recently departed. It’s an it now, for certain. No more he. Or maybe? CAConrad2: Thank you for asking. It’s the poems, the city. It’s the days, the poems. I have known fortunate souls who delivered less for the price of a notebook. To share this now feels, well it feels tubal. Everything about the place has this sensation and I haven’t feared it in many years. When I did fear it I was usually high or breaking up with another boyfriend. For instance in 1987 I had a boyfriend who was kissing on me in my apartment and he said, “WHY do you have this dingy little cave? It’s so small we have to roll the bed out to have sex.” I took his hand, led him to the bus stop. We got on the 42 bus, got off at 3rd Street, we walked a couple of blocks to a beautiful gazebo with wisteria braiding the lattice-‐work. Sitting inside it I said, “See, this is my living room.” He said, 140