guess the dream poet - part 4

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

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__Poet 1__ is at the Tortilla Factory waiting for __Poet 2__, __Poet 1__ has really long eyelashes that spell out the message: DEATH.

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I'm with __Poet 1__ and __Poet 2__ . We're smoking pot in a field. I'm smoking it from a big long pipe, relighting it. I'm smoking it for a really long time. __Poet 2's__ dad tells me to cut it out and get to work. To get to the fields I have to climb a wall. It's tricky.

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I'm sitting in Poets and Busboys waiting for __Poet 1__ to arrive for a one-on-one meeting. I have a Poets and Busboys pencil that he/she gave me, still unsharpened. I remember that he/she introduced me to this place before he/she had his falling out with it. __Poet 2__ and __Poet 3__ join me at my table. They're talking about an amazing, brilliant woman who seems to be able to do everything. She was a poet, a stripper who was so alluring and sexy, men pursued her, a Playboy model and now a conductor. She's done everything except have children, which they thought she wouldn't do because she was too smart for men.

__Poet 2__ and __Poet 3__ get up and excuse themselves. I get sleepy and slump over at the table waiting for them to return. __Poet 2__ brings me a cup of coffee. I see that they joined this amazing woman, who looks middle aged and a little heavy with red hair, at her table. I wonder why they left my table, instead of having her join ours.

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My work is rejected at a magazine. Since I know the editor, I ask him why. Another editor, _______ , responds saying nobody else demands a reason. I'm angry. I wasn't demanding anything, I just asked. I think about my response to him/her. I decide that I'll never ask why again.

I'm sitting in a car and a man walks by and tells me that he doesn't consider me an important part of American poetry these days. I don't write. I don't publish. I'm inconsequential now. I tell him that I don't care what he thinks. I've moved on to something bigger and more important. A police officer comes up and handcuffs the man. I ask if he's being arrested and the officier says yes. I ask if I can taser the man. The officer chuckles. I ask if I can stick my finger in the man's butt. The officer chuckles again. Another man walks up and says he wants to rape the man in handcuffs. That crosses the boundary of a good joke. The officer takes the man in handcuffs away.

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_______ publishes a book. It was supposed to be an anthology, a second in a series. But hardly anyone sent to it. So instead he/she wrote a number of small paragraphs, one per page, about his/her process of finding submissions and how I helped him/her. I buy a copy of the book, not knowing, and am a little touched to discover I made this difference--although my helping him/her publicize the call for work seemed to only bring two submissions. The word "rebtard" is used in the book. Maybe it was something I said.

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_______ and I are playing an imaginative game. He/she is wearing a mask at first. We're telling some kind of story. I come across something online where a slobbish guy puts a mullet on his baby and calls it "Baby Bieber." For $1 you can get your picture taken with the baby. I'm very critical of how this man is exploiting his child, but relieved to see it's only for $1.

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I'm talking about _______ with somebody-- about how he/she went overboard with his/her public grief. How I felt bad for him/her, but it was too much so I unfriended him/her on FB.

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