with poets, schoolteachers, and school kids. Each poet did panels, question periods, and readings. The first night, all twenty-five poets read, a few minutes each, to a crowd of three thousand. Nobody sitting at the back of the tent could have seen a poet's face if the festival had not enlarged each visage on a screen like the Dallas Cowboys'. For closeups, the Dodge employed a black, jointed steel arm, a foot thick and fifty feet long, which curled and lurched its camera back and forth, grabbing each facial detail in its metallic tentacles. It looked as if it were searching for a source of protein.
from The New Yorker: Thank You, Thank You: Donald Hall on a Lifetime of Poetry Readings
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