Just got back from the May edition of the multilingual poetry readings. It was quite a fun evening. There definitely were multiple languages going on. French, German, Czech (a letter from God to Nietzche – great title, I sort of got lost in the middle, though), even a bit of Icelandic…well, a translation from Icelandic. There was plenty of music. There was some experimental poetry. I’m not really very big on experimental poetry, but my point is there was a lot of variety, and variety is good.
The highlight of the evening for me was the break section, where we all went up to street level, because the reading itself is in the basement, as all poetry readings should be, because tradition, and we were standing around smoking pot and you good see the dome of the National Museum shining in the distance as the color of the sky changed from day to night, and one girl was talking about poetry as the exchange of ideas, a way that people could actually get inside each other’s heads, it was a deep and lovely thought, and a guy came up to our group and offered us some poppy seed cake, I guess either they’d over ordered or didn’t like it much, and so we had cake, and we invited him to join us and he and one girl from his group did, and it felt for a moment like we were back in the 60s. I liked the 60s.