An episode of Average Mortal Radio in which, it is noted, the rains have stopped; William Stafford and the possibilities of being Fifteen are explored; Stafford reminds us that "Nobody cares if you stop here."

After yet another long hiatus Average Mortal Radio returns with music about the weather; Mary Oliver is invoked and fog horns are remarked upon.

An episode of Average Mortal Radio in which Liam Bailey, musician, singer, songerwriter, reveals what it was like, what happened, and what it's like today; delightful original music from "Liam Bailey" and "Flesh & Armor" are performed; listeners are encouraged to buy more homegrown music; and Liam reveals his soul's deepest yearning. For more information about Liam, his music, his concert tours, and his CDs, please go to: www.madriverrecords.com and www.liambaileymusic.com Photograph by South

An episode in which the President (Yes, that President!) goes to Poplarville, Mississippi, (Yes, that Poplarville, Mississippi!) with a purloined lyric most curious; nattering sheep (Yes, those nattering sheep!) cannot be stilled; your host has the rich pleasure of reading Eudora Welty aloud; listeners near and far are introduced to a major work of American fiction and urged to learn more about Karen Fisher's novel, A SUDDEN COUNTRY, at www.asuddencountry.com; and the passing of yet one more fine independent bookstore is duly and sadly remarked upon.

After a month's hiatus, Average Mortal Radio re-emerges in an episode where Thoreau warns his readers about CNN; Radio Boy renounces his vulgar voyeurism; E. B. White writes of Pullman cars and fraudulent fruit; listeners are given 3 ways to make their day a better one; and all are treated to gutbucket Howlin' Wolf courtesy of Electric Shades of Blue (www.electricshadesofblue.com).

An episode of Average Mortal Radio in which our hero is betrayed by an airline with the words American and West in its name, causing him to ask the question, "Is nothing sacred anymore?"; from the air, Philadelphia lapses into a desert; where are the cedars he thought he was flying home to?; Wallace Stevens' travel habits are observed and explicated; a brilliant line by Adrienne about barcodes and the human brow is plagiarized; odd jobs in the entertainment industry are examined; and parents are enjoined to find their children some rivers and some trees.

An episode in which Ryler Dustin, Malcolm Kenyon, and Anna Wolff are introduced; Adrienne captures their fugitive images as proof of their unblurred beings; plaster sifts from the ceiling at the timbre of their voices and stones are riven by their merest bidding; a plea is made to visit them and others at poetrynight.org; a good night is had by the pilgrims who follow their progress; and all who listen are invited to chew, yes chew, on some poetry. (Post poetry: An account was rendered of street urchins electrified, but you'll have to tune in for a later episode to hear the details of this, as I am too busy at the moment combing the sodden streets of Philadelphia seaching for the shadow of the ghost of Benjamin Franklin for amplification on this topic. Adrienne and I also want to explore the question of why bikers, grown men and women leathered as cows and fringed as cedars, must cluster together in groups when they travel, like packs of middle school girls on their way to the bathroom.)

An episode, possibly a troubling one, in which our announcer bemoans his fate as a Renaissance Man; poetry is spoken, freely; and minstrels explore the aftermath of tragedy; did you hear anyone pray?

An introductory episode in which Jim Horton, redheaded son of a preacher man, basks in the sun and the litany of the bees; a raw fiddle accompanies; salutations are sent.