Up before 6. Already mostly (over)packed, grabbed a coffee around 7, came home and tied up loose ends (e.g. Aug. rent check). Spent some time saying goodbye to Bree. Called car at 10, read a little sheaf of poems by Joel Lewis and Gerald Burns I’d printed out at some point and slipped into my bag this morning. Lewis is, I think, a better poet than many more famous; has a narrow furrow (Jersey), I guess, but mines a great deal from it. Flight: Did crossword and the easy sudoko, screwed up the medium one. Read about 80 p. of Robert Bailey, Art & Language International: Conceptual Art between Art Worlds, which focuses on the UK group’s collaborations and conflicts w/ associates in NY, Aus/NZ, and Yugoslavia. The prose is lucid, but I have to say that some of the A&L group’s “analytic” philosophy, linguisitics etc. at this stage, while not window dressing, strikes me as less impressive than it did in my 20s, for instance a complete misapplication of Chomsky’s notion of an “ideal speaker-listener.” Once I’d had enough, read through A People’s Map: Stories From the East San Gabriel Valley, a newsprint publication by some independent journalists/photographers, w/ 2 page-spreads devoted to a bunch of ordinary/extraordinary folks from the era. I only found out about it b/c David Allen from the Daily Bulletin is in it. Listened to Anthony Coleman’s Jelly Roll Morton album, Freakish. There’s something about the strangeness and artfulness of this music that Coleman does capture, without entirely losing touch with its barrelhousing nature - but what it consists in, I don’t know how to say. 4 hrs. in Denver airport. Lunch, a porter, some email, frankly wasted some time online, finally made myself work on the chapter conclusion the last 90 min. before the connecting flight. Didn’t quite get the draft off to my correspondent before takeoff, and the paid internet on the flight was down. Did another sudoko (got it right this time). Listened to Mekons, Deserted. It sounds really good - David Trumfio on keys, bass, and mixing adds a lot. There’s a lot of Tom on this one. A postpunk grinder called “Mirage” is pretty great. But I couldn’t concentrate too well on the lyrics on the plane. Should hear it at least once more before seeing them Monday. Notebook poem. Landed 8:30, sent today’s writing while waiting for bag, my aunt and uncle Anthony & Beverly picked me up, at my dad’s house in Upland at about 9:30. Said hi, chatted w/ A&B and the caregiver for half an hr, went to bed.