It never rains but it pours, they say, and when it rains it makes the little flowers grow, and when it pours it’s instant rainforest,  with growth growing on  growth and intertwining orgiastically, and that’s fine, that’s just beautiful, because life.

Usually I have a poetry reading a month and very often I don’t find I have anything performance  ready when the end of the month rolls around, and then the readings go dark for the summer.

Lately, though, there has been an explosion of readings, and I’m finding that that is pushing me to write, and I’ve just had two within a week and I’ve got two more coming up next week, and I’ve probably got enough fresh material for all of  them.

Tonight was the release of the latest edition  of “Word Addict’ magazine, in which I had a couple of  poems, so my contribution was pre-set, but I  did write one special for the occasion.  It’s an  arty bunch, and the reading was in a proper stone basement and they had a screen behind the readers, took me right back to the 60s, and the theme was ‘Blue’ and everybody who read had to be anointed in blue by the High Priestess of Blue, and Jarda, our host, performed in a fblue bathrobe, because he is a bit of an exhibitionist that way.

Some good, some bad, not a big crowd, it suddenly got much larger shortly after I’d finished my piece, which irritated me a bit, but I was satisfied with the quality of my performance and got ideas for a couple more poems and then when I got home there was a message informing me of another reading Thursday night, and than we leave  for American on Monday,j so I’m fitting in just as much poetry as I can handle.

It’s a jungle, a metaphorical jungle.


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