New York goes on and on, Kate and Nicelle reading at Mom Egg September 16th at 6 pm!

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Nicelle and I are reading at this place called the Mom Egg tomorrow night with Holly Anderson, Kristin Prevallet, and Marjorie Tesser. We’re going to be awesome. You should come to Le Poisson Rouge and have a drink with us.
http://donyc.com/event/2013/09/16/wild-west-wild-east-poetry-reading-with-kate-gale-nicelle-davis-and-more

Yesterday was great, the run on the river walk, and then the reading at the Bowery was fine. I had a panic attack since everyone arrived in the five minutes leading up to the reading. But then they showed up, and the reading went well. Elana Bell was magical, Jessica Piazza was great and this was the first time I had heard Veronica Reyes read, and she was great. The last reader was John Van Kirk who gave a kick ass reading, and then we had music with John and his friend Art Stringer.
By the time I left there, I very much needed a drink. I had spent too much energy hoping people will show up, and I had survived and I was glad. I wanted a shot of tequila or a martini. But Nicelle and her friend Cheryl wanted to go for Ukrainian food which we did. I really like Russian food in general. Especially chicken liver, sour cream and herring, and I like vodka. And borscht. I had borscht and spinach pierogies. It was one of those good light dinners that you could have eaten again but wisely didn’t. I thought about getting a drink during the two mile walk home. But, drinking alone isn’t my style. I spend a lot of time alone in New York, but I like being able to think when I’m alone.
Today, meetings at Oprah magazine and Huffington Post. And then the reading. I have a meeting up on the Upper East side first thing, three miles from my hotel. The plan is to walk up there. I think it will be fun; it’s odd but at home in Los Angeles we never walk three miles to the store or to a restaurant or theater.
Overheard on the street here: We got to bring in seven million in the next month.
That makes me smile. The money flows here in New York. I’ve figured out a big difference between New York and Los Angeles. In New York, we are all together here. We all see each other on the street and every place. We live in public places here.
In Los Angeles we live in private. Our public life is our work, but there isn’t a street life. A public life where everyone is mixed up and all together. I never go to Bel Air or Beverly Hills. I rarely go to Brentwood. When people come to town and they want to see celebrities, you have to drive to where fancy people might be. In New York, you see fancy people everywhere. Fancy places. Fancy restaurants. In Los Angeles I live with roses and my orange tree. I have to drive to fancy.

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  1. It’s a joy to read about your travels, exotic meals and to visualize your humorous tone and beautiful smile as you say clever and wise things. If you see the ghost of Kerouac on a NY City roof top with a Brakeman’s manual in his pocket, taking a drag on a cig. wave to him for me. He was so handsome in that photo taken by Ginsberg in 1953!
    Do you know the photo? I’ve written a poem about it.


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