The Story of AWP BOSTON: Hélène Cardona Edition Red Leather Jacket Blues Part 1



I set out to Boston, to interview the one and
only Poetess Hélène Cardona as part of our
ongoing Underground Books / Unlikely Blond
outreach to extrapolate literary content for
our ambitions. I high on the idea of interviewing
an actress plotted in New York City to make my
movie/television career debut. Under the guise of
a lowly bartender at Keens, I squirreled away my
loot to plan this shoot. And Well We Must Always
Start With The Poems.

It was Friday. The Second day of the convention.
I had been drinking the previous night with cameraman
Matthew Moseman at the Trident Bookstore attending
the poetry reading for Stephen Motika Program Director
at Poet’s House. Stories later from him were inconclusive
I imagined we probably didn’t get to rowdy. Cab home to
Cambridge. Hyatt, Wake up drunk, and watch the snow
fall, oh and such pretty in a city by the river that
untouched for more then mere moments, I pulled the covers
down and drowned some vodka. If it was gonna dump, so
was I !


Morning. I do not own a copy of Hélène Cardona’s new book
Remembering my something something, never seen it.
It goes back to the crux of the interview, a red leather
jacket, and a black bebop hat. The said Red Leather Jacket
did as it turn out arrive in time from Beijing ahead of
schedule on the day that I was working a double at work.
Alas Megabus to Boston beckons and the post office still
sleeps. I knew that package was Hélène Cardona’s new book,
and I just didn’t have the time to get it. Truth be
told, it was the red leather jacket, and had known such
fact would have quit said job to retrieve for said such
interview in Boston I was doing Friday!

Friday, the vodka is gone, should I bring the weed?
Nah, We’ll just cab around.


Downstairs lobby, Book Retrieval Mode
I had spoken with Hélène about picking up a book in
the morning, I have to go outside and get a cab, and
cab straight home go back to bed.

Snow, far as the ice can see.


No cabs, but that mighty charles river, chat transcipts
of sms texts to headquarters, outlined in clear clarity
what it would take, I would mount the Charles and
arrive in Boston.

You can find the live
transcripts at:

I arrived to the snow covered Boston for God help
the first store after walking a bridge in the snow
is a Liquor Store that sold bitters and soda! Off
to the Convention Center!





There she was, me, covered in snow.



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