Prose. Tour, entry 3: Do you write or read?

Author note:

When Prose. presented the opportunity for me and my dog to go on tour for winter, to find writers and readers with a grassroots, gasoline-fueled literary mission, two words ran across my mind in scrolling neon red letters against a blackboard of subtle space junk: Hell, yes.

To ride along, follow the tour's hashtag above.

__________________________

Do you write or read?

I might be drunk, I might only appear to be drunk. I might approach you uncomfortably to ask you a question I already know the answer to, to get your eyes on Prose. I might give you a pocket journal and pen. If we get this far you will download Prose. And we get this far, every face, every time. Another addict, another writer for me to read. I've never seen something this explosive. We always knew you were out there. And now we're here connected. The honor is both of ours. I write this Prose. in the desert, 2.5 hours north of the room where I wrote my first poem decades ago, and here this stands now: 2014. November. On the road for Prose., bending sunlight, breaking the odds. The Arizona sun shines high and perfect while the tentacles of Prose. feel around the country for kin, for the doors in the dark, to show them home never died, it only paused.