 He was born, lived, and writes in San Diego, and he is the author of a poetry collection that I believe he's going to read from right now. Please welcome Junior Collins. I listen to not only what you say, but what makes you say it. One, they are sad and I am sad, but tonight most seem to a plan to forget so they are smiling and then I am smiling too. When they remember they will turn their backs to the sun like you have done so frequently in the short times since I've met you. To all of the living and breathing things and especially their stories would seem to me now to be the most perfect example of living and breathing. But you, you move your feet slightly and then your back is to it all. Maybe people notice, I always notice, then I think do you want a Pepsi? But they just keep going living and breathing as if someone asked them to remember when they went to Africa. I remember all of it this instant and then I think how many Cherry Pepsi's. Two, I want to do my life in the easiest way. I never want people to think I'm from some place that I am not. I'm collecting blonde friends or they are collecting me. Living bleached, it comes like a wave. Three, people all over California praying for blue moons. I love all of them. Four, you say they will continue being this way as out of love. I say there's not a single animal I can't make quiet. You say I want every color to bend. I say this is a piece of quartz from the very beginning. You say I held the mountains open like this. I say we were all on fire. You say bromeliad, I say cleft. You say we need this and then I just put my hands away. A month can seem like a week when people are leaving and I am doing this for the bridge. Connected series of events which are positively reflected on. A mirror can be a number of things so I compromise. You are a ship. You are a rock. You spend time with your possessions until you recognize whether today is a day that you are allowed to cry. I have several shirts of similar design. Today is a day that I am allowed to. This is only part of what it took. There was reoccurring maintenance and the result was something that I carry forever. Truthfully, there is something to be said for solitude beyond the way it feels when it leaves my mouth but presently its extra sensations feel worthless. Twenty. You will build a monument to uncertainty and visit it regularly. You will bend your elbow and think about how many things are secret. Twenty-four. You crying in a white shirt. Twenty-five. They ask about bone structure and I shrug. I see your faces in the crows, the wallpaper that was split to see what others thought about themselves and of course the cloud daughters. It doesn't matter whether you intend to be beautiful. Twenty-six. You dart across a window. You ask how many. You put your hair down. You put your face close to the dog's face. You do all these things. Twenty-seven. How do I sound so far away? Which is the part of me that misses things? Thirty-two. I end up following someone by mistake. I wonder when things will be different. I feel afraid about what I am willing to do to experience grace. Thirty-six. You piss in the ocean and aren't even embarrassed. Thirty-eight. There are some colors you will be embarrassed to have worn. Thirty-nine. Intense all over and then gone into the night. Forty. You have been counting the decades and tasting things. In the two large rooms there are pictures of people looking at a painting on the screen. And each person next to this painting looks like a dancer. Naturally one imagines people not pictured. It happens easily. And soon Brodigan is a very good dancer. As are Henry Rawlins, Jerry Springer, Randy Moss and Prince Michael Jackson won. Then you imagine someone who you haven't thought of and they don't look like a dancer at all. A greyhound may be jittery and beautiful. Suicidely beautiful is how some would put it. But there is someone else in the room, very un-greyhound but familiar. They say horses. When they talk it sounds like this. Horses, horses, horses, horses. The way they move towards the window, horses. How their newly long hair falls about their shoulders, horses. It all comes out as horses. But the mind returns to greyhounds. Of course the mind returns to greyhounds it asks to. How they sometimes say nice things about nice people. But they're really saying them about themselves. And that's okay. Because language is sometimes a mirror. And sometimes it helps to say things to others. So you can imagine them being said to you. Things you might not feel like you deserve. I guess, I suppose. I mean, I don't know. I don't say very nice things about most people. But I try my hardest to glow in their direction. But I don't think about deserving either. And that's okay. It's all going to be okay. It will all work out. But I'm allowed to think that. See 28-year-old fever youth. It is possible to live without greyhounds. It has to be. But the empty space can be vulgar. I'd like to try and fill it with your 28-year-old fever youth. Which is to say I'm putting us back in it. So we can catch some very large fish. Then trail off. Or fall off the boat together with the very quiet splash. And rack our brain about every gesture. Real and imagine. Written and witnessed. Yeah, just like that. Grinning. But I don't know if the water should be cold when we fall in. Even though it's nearly spring. And people are still yelling out, Happy New Year. But there are stars as well. Though this seems separate. It is the connectedness that fills it. The constellations of everyday life. It is possible for a bear to look like a wolf. Some of the time. And most people after having the big dipper pointed out to them lie about being able to see it. And there's the big dipper. See it. And they reply, of course. I see it. Wow. But what they mean is I don't see horses. Are stars really this boring? Are they more or less boring on the body? Are they more or less permanent? What are their advantages over fireworks? I could probably lie about stars for this person. For a lot of people, but for this person especially. 51. When someone you have loved does something terrible, it doesn't mean you never loved them. It doesn't mean they won't again. 52. And then you put all the blackberries in your mouth. 53. Yes, I understand. And I wish to continue. 54. When I transfer the bees from my body to your body. 55. I want to climb a tree. There is a ghost that asks me for sweets. In the backyard nothing grows. There is a small shelter. We pretend to have a swing. 56. California, where is your heaven? 57. It was March, and you were all salt, and I was so tired. You were teaching me how to tell the two of them apart. There was so much crashing thunder, and it's okay if you forgot, but please remember too. 58. The slow, deliberate speech of a man with a lot of money. 61. I don't worry about dying, but I do worry about being killed. 62. Do you want to win? 63. I'm still finding sand wherever it is I happen to look. It is happening in the big world, and also it is happening here. I think people are beginning to notice. They are saying things to assuage my fears, no pressure, and no diamonds, and they smile unknowingly. I don't understand them. That is what you are supposed to do, right? You keep going for the answer. Wherever I walk, nondescript California wildflowers grow. This is a new discovery, and I can't help but consider it in relation to old ones. The waxy fabric of fake flowers is left behind where I have slept. I have come to the realization that I am past the point of doing things just for fun, though I still want things to be just for fun. Here is a list of perching birds. I am trying to think of how to make Pacific driftwood a more integral part of my work. I am trying to remove all of the roofs from my work. I am trying to have more galaxies in my work. I am trying to have many tall things in my work. My lips are burning. I am unclear about what is being built. I know that there is someone that does know, but that it doesn't make it free. I am so tired. The river makes a shape that should be recognized. I definitely see something, though, like all maps, I am unsure if it is what you see. When I tell you this, you touch your chin. Something about the properties of light. This is what I like about you. You are a mixture of parts. You are tall. You are glowing. And you are so beautiful. There are people in other cities thinking about the cute aspects of existence. How do the portrait artists stay vigilant in the face of such explicit humility? My California isn't shimmering all mist haze in the sensation of north. A pleasant flicker. And you don't see that because you don't want to. Toy cameras aside, I'm not sorry, but I imagine I could be made to feel that way. Time spent staring at objects organized neatly. What do I do with these slides of bodies being bodies in the creek? It seems as if everyone was allowed to be there except for the people that weren't. This is my favorite planet. After I have woken up in the morning, I sit on the couch and wonder, is this the way a man should sit? Then I am embarrassed. Then I long to be distant from this kind of narrow binding. Oh, piece of pine. You have to listen to me. You have to make something that floats. You have to be someone interested in relieving pressure while the rest are silent. I think about what I would say to you if you went to China and then came back. Maybe nothing. To go this long without mentioning echoes is wrong. Trying to capture the feeling of being in the shower when not actually in the shower over and over and over again. That one is also beautiful. People of the wind, please don't kill me. If you weren't here, then you would be somewhere else. Yes, that's the problem. I don't know how many flags I have wrapped around my head. Let's call it a solution. The sound of Nova Scotia fills my mouth and subsequently my dreams and I keep making space for it. It's not clear where you sleep either. Do you have to climb a tree and are there lots of clouds? This is me asking but not asking. Someone says pleasure and I imagine something so red. Don't ask me to be involved. I guess I trapped the horse in the room while you were sitting on the stones and I would often wish that the stones didn't exist and other times I didn't notice. People of the wind, please don't forget to add stones to my boat. How did it feel to hold the crystal in your hand and then where did you put it? While I was gone, people have become more dedicated. I mean, I can be a nice person but I can also be a person of habit. Thank you. Thanks, Junior Clemens. Junior has books for sale and so does Sarah. So, big book buying party after the reading.