Spent the afternoon enlightening Intern Kurt.

We went through some No Tell titles and I explained decision processes and behind the scenes stuff.

He had questions.

Apparently some of the things I told him directly contradicted what he's learning in college.

I was about to tell him to stick that college learning in . . . then it occurred to me that's probably a bad idea, considering he's only half way through college and an early disdain for his lessons will likely not help him in life and starting next year his college will be giving him credit for this internship and I'm friendly with one of his professors, so . . .

Instead I told him to keep in mind that there are many ways to approach poetry and publishing -- and his teachers may have particular goals/needs that other poets may not.

Then I told him that if he sticks with poetry for many decades, lovely poetry groupies will swarm -- once he hits 60 or 70.

Possibly.

Then I regaled him with tales of crusty poet coots being inappropriate towards me and other lady poets.

I really think he learned a lot today.

He also displayed patience every time Gideon interrupted us.

And when Gideon gave me a tattoo. (rub on)

And when Gideon asked me to read his Chinese fortune sticks.

Kurt told Gideon a joke about rain and cats and dogs and poodles.

Gideon told him it wasn't very funny.

Gideon was a little threatened by Kurt at first.

I didn't think Gideon would undertand what "intern" meant, so before Kurt arrived, I described him as "my helper."

That was a poor choice of words.

Gideon is "my helper."

Duh.

When I realized my mistake, I tried distinguishing between "big helper" and "little helper."

The damage was already done.

We worked through it.

Kurt the Intern: Luckiest guy on Earth.