THE HYPNOTIST ATTACKS WITH NOCTURNE ENVY!

Here's the thing. When you're a kid, you have this incredible exuberance. You have a lot of fears, but at least you're not afraid of saying what you want to say. Poetry isn't all that far from your basic mindstate. And then you learn how to drive or whatever, and you aren't afraid, but there's a lot of stuff you don't want to say. And then, in college, you learn all kinds of things about the importance of speaking, the voice, the self, the mask of the self, the ways in which every act of writing introduces a strange mask, one that looks almost exactly like you. After graduation, if you have survived your education, you might have to live by a river in a tall brown building with green shutters for YEARS until you can forget all of it. Maybe you need some divorces, some party dresses that don't fit anymore, whatever it takes for you. And then, if you're lucky, after many years of that kind of hanging around you can write a poem called HYPNOTIST VS. PUNCHY FACE GIRL.