With regard to your “old question”…Let me stop and read it over once more before I begin, “Old question—for me beginning years ago when hanging out with Wieners—just what is borne by the expression 'glamour,' nothing obviously personal to me rather being curious about John's alertness that way, past the social, etc.”
Glamour is a trance, anyway. One is shown the door and through to the chamber. It is all the times you have looked in the mirror unembarrassed, combined at once concave upon the walls, it's blinding. In her novel Inferno Eileen Myles writes, “Poets are good at being alone”; that sentiment always seems to figure in. I think it also lives off my delusional sense of expectation. If I am to attend a reading in a space I have never been to, even someplace outright local, like a bookstore, I never imagine it in those terms going in. I tend to imagine something grand, taking up a private box in the balcony, always a line out the door. I tend to arrive embarrassingly early to these events as well.