There was the Spit it Out poetry reading tonight at A Maze in Tchaiovna, which kind of caught me flat footed. I found out about it a week ago and had just had the Soma reading, and with Alchemy coming up next week I had to scrape the old barrel to come up with enough material to make tonight worthwhile. In the end I had five or six very short pieces, which didn’t fit the mood of the reading at all, or maybe it did, but I was definitely overshadowed, in a very good way.
It was definitely a small audience, so almost as many performers as non-performing audience members, and sometimes the line got a little blurred. The guy who was just sitting in the back playing guitar for his friends got roped in and, after a very nervous introduction did a couple songs and did them just fine, at least one was his own, there was a dog act, which was also unplanned, a group reading of ‘Howl,’ a group poem which, IMHO, is sort of pointless as a poetry exercise but it’s not bad as a friendly little nerdgame.
Kae, the organizer, did a couple of poems I’d heard before and one called, if I recall correctly ‘Outside the Museum of Broken Relationships in Zagreb.’ There was a new guy, a very British gentleman of African origin who spoke of poetry as therapy, of writing while angry, and in writing of giving voice to all the thoughts rolling around in his head he did, indeed, give them voice.
Not at all the kind of thing I write, very passionate and emotional, whereas I’m just trying for rhyme, interesting word juxtaposition and occasionally a hit you over the head with a clown hammer obvious point, but that’s all to the good, we’re not competing, we’re not doing the same kind of thing at all. He was damned impressive and raised the bar and that is a good thing. That is a great thing.
I still have to finish my long poem on interdimensional travel, but I have until Monday.