Barnes & Noble night. I used to dislike B&N but I've been inculcated. not without reservation. there were $1 books, 4 of which Beth swept up. cool and half. I got Moleskine's fancy-ass ruled journals. I have several of the hardbound journals, for various segregated usages, and these softbound charmers look good for who know what (if I indeed make th Charles Olson whatsis at MIT tomorrow, one of these cahiers coems with me). I hankered for pomes and sweated over the selection but got nuthin'. but the selection was better than. some not dead poets, even those of youth. I saw a book by Joshua Clover (UCal Press, so not a mystery), Sarah Manguso and Bill Knott. there was an effort to display the books all special-like tho octane levels vis-a-vis visual impact still wasn't exactly Da Vinci Code (which we got, Beth 1st). amongst the anthologies, of which there are many (too many, frankly), there was no Bay Poetics. I shall soon divest myself of the price of that book to own it, and feel that B&N had ought to be part of that process, as it sounds like whammer jammer. I dunno the appropriate incantation to make that happen, and, sadly, neither does SPD. someone should, tho. I wavered over Koch's collected, O'Hara's (I have his selected but do regard him as upwards of the best) and even, somehow (I've never really read her), Elizabeth Bishop. but really didn't want to buy semi-contemporary, I wanted full contemporary, non dead variety. look elsewhere, unless you consider Mary Oliver non-dead. I've gone this route before but criminy, B&N is so smart in other categories, whereas with poetry it's mostly just shovelsful of whatever's handy. as I snooped, a B&N psychopomp led a woman and young child to the poetry section. the girl was choosing the right Emily Dickinson book, went wow at the collected. and the mother was in the mode of: if my bright child says so. I finally copped nary a poem book, but relented to Naked Lunch because. at least there's some adventure there.