Just got back from the semi-regular, generally bi-monthly, multi-lingual poetry reading at Ad Astra, which I don’t find to be an ideal site for a poetry reading because it’s still a café, and even though we can pull a thin partition wall partway across so it’s kind of a private room, you can still hear the people at the more boisterous tables. Despite that, it seems to be working out. There was a good crowd there, that is, some old, many new.
There was a new guy who had written some intense, urban angst type poems about different Prague neighborhoods and it was pretty good, but then he lost me with his “I love nature so much I would literally like to have sex with it” poem.
There was the cute, young, Finnish hippie girl who read a poem by a friend of hers in Finnish, which of course I don’t understand a word of, and there was a point in the poem where she made a sound, it was somewhere between a bleat and the honking of a horn. It was clearly not a word in Finnish, but it was also clearly an intended part of the poem, sort of an international expression that we all could understand, and that made me laugh out loud.
There was a new American guy who had a poem about a teacher standing in front of the class and I am not sure my interpretation was correct, but he seemed to be describing the teachers positioning in the classroom as part of a satanic ritual. I quite liked the poem.
And I read four new poems, which will be in my next book, which is still a ways off.