There was a person at Burning Man walking around as a poetry jukebox. He had a jukebox contraption on him, with just his face showing where one would see the record collection. A women told me to pick a number from 1 to 100. I picked number 9. The man recited a poem by Billy Collins. A poem about poetry. I see similarities between the this patricular poem and the way some people experience Burning Man. They either get it or they don't. Anyway, it's beautiful and was really cool hearing this man recite it in his baritone voice way he did. He brought it truly to life. G'night all.