November Spit it Out Poetry Reading

O.K., had a poetry reading tonight and had just tons of good stuff, well, four never before presented in public poems and I thought they were all  pretty  good but they got no more than the usual polite response.  The one that I just finished this morning, that I thought was great, I think now I’ve got to rework the last stanza, because it doesn’t rhyme.  I thought I’d leave it the way it was   because it was just so awesome, but I’m going to go back  and work on  it some more.
If there was any theme to the evening, it was anxiety.  An even stronger common thread, if this can be called a common thread, was poems in other languages than English.  There were a couple of poems in French, one in Czech but he kind of muttered his way through it, one in Italian and one other with a bit of Italian thrown in in the middle, one in Estonian that nobody at all understood, one in Slovenian that she was nice enough to explain and it sounded quite beautiful, a guy spills his drink and then starts drawing in it with his finger, the house, the trees, the rose bushes, the wife, and then the  waiter comes and wipes it all away, a tale of lost dreams, one in Portuguese which  must have been very sad indeed because the girl reading it started crying in the middle and found it hard  to carry on, and one very white guy reading something in Chinese, which was apparently song lyrics, but it sounded like he actually spoke the language.
It was an interesting evening.

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