I walked dark, residential streets in the rain to 20th and Union. Waited under an awning until my friend Ronnie got there. We joined two others at the gate; the group admitted inside. Music blared. When I said yes to Ronnie's invitation to read on the radio, I figured we would be filler in between sets of music. I didn't know I would become part of something, a ritual with a welcoming host, involving moon music word pictures late night callers circumambulating speculations. My piece "Westlake Center" Blues & Bluster on Hollow Earth Radio Phone call near 1 am