And to hear your poem tonight, which is great.

Oh, thanks, Katie.

I do think I'm nervous about the Rattle Cast though, because I had a dream that I had to walk to California-

[laughs]

Well, here's the poem, Triggers.

It might be the sight of laughing gulls beside the pond, the chug and thrum of freight trains that bear no burden but their weight, the flamenco dancer's scarlet twirl and call of ole, Chopin's Nocturne in C Sharp Minor, the scent of citrus trees, the day's first sip of Cuban brew, a mundane shopping trip, the giggle of a baby at the diner, a recent memory or faded dream of pastel lilacs, powdery and strong, or the dishwasher's sad old soapy song, or shoals of salmon struggling upstream.

Who knows what ushers in this gentle burning, this ache no one escapes, this nameless yearning?