Poet Dorianne Laux wraps it up with host Rustin Larson in a delicious 6 minute conclusion to her interview.

Then after a brief musical interlude, poet Rustin Larson reads his lyrical narrative essay "Elegy" which first appeared in the journal The MacGuffin in 1997. Ah, literary history. Can y'all smell it in the toaster? Whiff the sesame seed, the poppy seed, the garlic and onion bagels of beauty and truth.

HOW BEAUTIFUL

Laurence Olivier & Merle Oberon, Young Will

or Mrs. Smith or the smart blonde who throws,

you know, I am grateful. The starlings. The sunlight

setting. A cool breeze. Rilke’s elegies.

The robot’s recharge switch, the ghost heather,

the heathen oath to be haunted forever. The bubble-

basic songs I can recall. And maybe sing if I want.

Little room, little room, always a little room,

Booby swings his pincer arms wildly

and chants like a deranged coffee maker.

Somewhere. I saw some kids today, sitting

in the window of the café, munching sandwiches.

Eyes shine, calm and sad. Snow

sweats on the face of Olivier. My parents contemplate

furtively like refugees. It made me feel uncomfortable,

but hey, don’t worry about me. Some kid zips

divorce and murder. A faded purple? A pure white?

I skulk about the house at night.

His car up the drive with the top down. How beautiful

is that? It’s spring and there’s a pretty girl afraid of his face,

the marble of obsession. Light switches half between off and on.

At the grocery

who likes poetry? Can you ask for anything more

fantastic? I’m going to recover all of my minds

soon, though they are strewn, the coat Jesus opens like a theater curtain,

the sparks cascading over the counter,

in the dust of seven

unknown planets. If any of them have sunsets half

as nice, wrap a sandwich in wax paper and walk

out there and sit on a log and let the day blizzard the walls, ultra high frequency,

the deluge of voltage spiders, the vital and invisible, and these

last few words.

--Rustin Larson