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Instead, students, fellow street people, and your reporter were invited to perform the autobiographical poems about drinking scotch in a refrigerator box on Wall Street Christmas Eve, fighting for space at a weekly free meal for the homeless, and landing in jail for accepting a joint on Times Square. Some were coerced, like the student who'd wandered in looking for a professor but then surprised everyone with a beautiful reading to start the evening, but for the man who apologized for his lispy Spanish accent and two of O's friends from the streets who shared a pair of eyeglasses it was a moment to feel important. | ||||