Last night: Small Press Traffic's season-opening presentation of Kevin Killian & Karla Milosevich's Celebrity Hospital. The best advantage to being a poet in the Bay Area, given cost-of-living, lack of living-wage, and the absurd bourgeois attack [especially from INSIDE many local arts organizations] on everything this city once held up and dear and good, must be the opportunity to participate as cast member in or audience to one of Kevin's poets-theater productions. Twenty-five cast members/characters (three of which, Mac McGinnes pointed out, were luxuriously brought in only in the last 10 minutes of the play [deus ex exposé?]) all poets, artists, and neighbors playing: under-over-cover "celebrities" getting/giving lip/lipo at the corner of Madison and Wisconsin in a faux LA, and everyone suffering from the mispleasures of Stockholm syndrome & "Apodyopsis: the act or condition of sexual excitement caused by exposure to medical procedures." Hello the rack on Jaclyn Smith and the Dr Baldwin on Wayne [Gretsky]. Are you going to prick me with that?