Nudist camp of the mind

Read Ogrin at the Lansdowne last night. In sections. Got as far as the first 1/4. Poetry readings are places where souls are laid bare. Like spiritual nudist camps. Wish we could take our clothes off too. Some poets do. One advantage would be so we could wash the tobacco smoke smell off with a shower, instead of having to put everything in the laundry baskket when we get home.