Poems, Used Furniture and Dance for the Young and Old, Which I Might Call Inspiration

Last night I visited a poetry reading, which, I believe, was the first one I have visited. The poet is a visiting professor at the law school. He had a short law career that he explained had been recently resurrected from the dead, and, otherwise, a long career devoted to teaching and creative writing, among other interesting pursuits such as psychotherapy and baboon-watching.
I was hoping to get some inspiration from him, and I was pleasantly surprised about his ability to read poems in a listenable, likable way, and at the depth of content in the words he used. He is able to say just enough to get a point across, some involving love, loss, awkwardness, bathroom interchanges during a job interview at a law firm, age, youthful deceit and Hungarian peep shows. Behind the poet, who stood in a library room, were rows and rows and rows of Isaac Asimov books. I had no idea he had written so many, many, many books. I haven't read any of them. I do own a short story of his, in an anthology of science fiction short stories, that I plan to read one day.
Thinking about this lawyer/poet's career made me re-visit the past, at the moment that I decided I no longer wanted to be an English major in college. I was 19 at the time and had just completed a British Literature course. I had really enjoyed all my other English-major classes, until British Literature. After I took the class, I wondered what I would be doing with my English degree. I remember my father telling me that one could do just about anything with an English degree, but that didn't help me very much. At any rate, I appreciated the time-travel aspect of re-visiting a career choice and pursuing a degree in English. I picked up a brochure about the creative writing department and a list of books that our local English professors recommend. I also ate a delicious and wholesome-tasting oatmeal-raisin cookie.
Today I spent some time looking at used furniture. The prices at places of charity were even too expensive, for the quality of what I found. I also discovered that the old, neglected mall is slowly transforming itself into a place to sell vast quantities of second-hand stuff. I also saw some senior citizens taking tap-dance lessons through large windows of the senior citizens center that has relocated itself into the large, ghostly mall; and, next door to the tap-dancing senior citizens, a swarm of tiny little girls trying to learn ballet. Ah, how I have exposed myself to diversity today.