Cosmopolis

I had my pal Jill pick a number between 1 and 3, each representing a book stacked on my desk. The winner: Don Delillo's Cosmopolis. I understand this is not his best, but it is a thin tome and, despite a failed attempt to get through chapter 1 a couple years back, I'm giving it another shot.

So, it is the age-old dilemma: why read a lesser work by an author when there are other, more heralded works in his or her body of work? With Delillo, I have read Underworld, White Noise, and Mao II, all of which are phenomenal. Underworld, in fact, is #20 on my list of all-time favorite books. Yes, I have such a list, I make no apologies for my dorkishness. But why this one instead of Libra, End Zone, or The Body Artist?

Perhaps the setting. Mostly in a limo going crosstown from the East to the West side of Manhattan. I made it through chapter 1 yesterday. I'll keep you all posted.

In another note, I completed a poem yesterday called "Filling Cavities," at the dentist's office while Jolee was in getting a couple of fillings. Once I've toyed with it a bit, I'll put it up here for your perusal.