Someone told me Yale has been talking shit lately.  Last Thursday Yale sent a poet to Providence and he brought his book and said, “Buy my book.”  I went to the reading and said, “I heard all the poets got beat up last weekend.”  The Yale Poet fixed his glasses and said, “Scrambled farm eggs and toasted baguette.”  This made everyone a little excited and a few people might have punched a bookshelf until some of the Yale Poet’s hair fell out.  I probably punched a bookshelf eleven times before I said, “I am going to drink some tonic water.” I drank some tonic water.  Then I ate some cheese and the Yale Poet said, “My name is Alan Bernheimer and I wrote this book,” and began reading from it.