Spare me the postmodern experimental poet bullshit

Eileen Myles read from Sorry, Tree at good feminist vegan bookstore the other night, Meg and I in front, making fun of podiums, Eileen funny and cool-casual, doing the same, and with terrific--not 'amazing' or 'important', like the woman that introduced/wanted to sleep with her said--poems, it was just the intro lady that was a drag, the rest made for a good time, especially roast beef with horseradish and onion rings at Rolando's after, hallelujah (sp?).