Breathe

Went to a poetry reading last night and it went on for an insane amount of time, and certainly much marijuana was smoked, so I’m writing this this morning.
It was about a quarter to 5 when the sky opened up and a deluge of rain started pouring down.  I was a bit late, but that was O.K., because these things absolutely never start on time, and, as it turns out, I’d sort of misunderstood the nature of the event.  There was a poetry reading, to be sure, but first there was yoga.
I am not really a yoga person but, as Vonnegut said, “Strange travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God” or something like that, so even though I don’t believe in God and these weren’t, literally, travel instructions, I sort of take the phrase to mean go with the flow, do whatever is suggested in the moment, and it was a relaxing and informative way to begin the evening and, as one girl pointed out to me after (lots and lots of seriously cute young women there) it was a way of getting everybody on the same page, a mingling technique, and as such it worked admirably.
The first part of the reading consisted of everybody reading their own poems from a literary magazine which had just been issued.  I didn’t have anything in it so I was called on to read someone else’s poem, which was exactly the opposite of the kind of thing I write.  Didn’t rhyme.  Didn’t follow a strict meter.  Was absolutely filled with gross, negative imagery – dead newt splattered on the sidewalk, someone run over by an ambulance, drowning in a puddle, yadda, yadda, yadda.  But, it got more applause than my own work, which didn’t get read until very late and there were probably only about 20 people left in the room.
Oh, yeah, the refreshments were great, got a full meal out of the deal.  The ginger tea  had way, way too much ginger in it, but there was good bread, good hummus, camembert and very thin salami, and nuts, including pecans and cashews.