We cut to Toby, wandering out of an auditorium. He finds a man outside. After confirming Toby's identity, the man explains that Tabatha was giving her lecture and, toward the end, something happened. She must have wigged out, but he doesn't actually say as much. The man says he thinks she's okay, but asked her if there was anybody he should call. Toby asks where she is. A woman tells Toby she's outside, sitting on the steps, which makes me wonder how Toby missed her when he was coming in. Toby asks whether there was any press there. The man says, "For a poetry lecture?" In other words, no.
Toby finds Tabatha outside, sitting on some steps. Without prompting, she starts telling Toby a story about a man she met in Banja Luka. The man took his son and Tabatha out fishing one day. The little boy hooked some garbage. When he tried to unhook it, it blew up, killing the boy right in front of them. Toby asks her what happened at the lecture. She says she was giving a lecture about poets who were never chosen to be a poet laureate because they were too rebellious and controversial, like Adrienne Rich and Allen Ginsberg. She was reciting Ginsberg's "Howl" from memory because she knows it so well. She starts reciting it again, "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical..." and here, unfortunately is where that They Might Be Giants song starts playing in my head. ["Ha! Me too! And dammit, she should be allowed to glue her poster!" -- Wing Chun] Not that I don't enjoy the song, but it kind of wrecks any attempt to continue with the poem. Anyway she stops just before she gets to "the negro streets at dawn," saying she couldn't remember how the poem continued. Toby stares silently at her. Tabatha says, "Do you think that I think that the artist's job is to speak the truth? An artist's job is to captivate you for however long we ask for your attention. If we stumble into truth, we got lucky. And I don't get to decide. What you said about South Korea makes sense, you know. Your people know more than I do...I write poetry, Toby, that's how I enter the world." She asks if she could arrange a few minutes to talk to POTUS alone to tell him what she saw in Banja Luka. It wouldn't have to be a public venue. Toby tells her that they can arrange it. He pulls out a notepad and shows it to Tabatha. On it is written, "Meet Tabatha Fortis." He pulls out a pen and crosses it off.