Spit it Out (That’s the name of the event)

Just got back from an above average poetry reading at my favorite tchaiovna, I guess you’d have to say my favorite tchaiovna ever, as none have ever made much of an impression before, but the A Maze in Tchaiovna is truly an amazing place, with the board games and the hookahs and the French and Czech and English lessons going on out front, and then you push through the door that is disguised as a bookcase  and go back into the poetry section, and then you push back further, through more false cupboards into a room they call Narnia, which is magical indeed, nudge,  nudge, wink, wink, and there are a couple of other hidden rooms back there, too.
They serve you a big pot of tea that’ll keep you for  the whole evening, and they have a collection of fantasy pots and cups, it’s quite fun, tonight I had an elephant.  I’ve never eaten there, but  I’ve heard the food’s good, too.

Tonight there was a really good rant poems about how nobody came to see her when she was locked up in a psych hospital and “They all  had reasons I couldn’t argue with,” and a girl who could really sing the blues, her own songs, real powerful voice, and some snappy Instagram dialogue poems, and a bit of  commentary (good riddance) on the ‘retirement’ of senile old racist Prince Philip, aka Mr. Queen Elizabeth II.  There were some regulars and  some first timers,  a couple of very cool dogs and a 6 month  old baby.

I’m already looking forward to the next  one, but I’ve got to  get  something new  written.


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