Most Monday nights are good nights. Tonight was a GOOD night.
Between the snow and my running late, I wasn’t sure how it was all going to turn out but it ended up being one of those nights that I look to to remind me why I love doing this so much. A fun show with a good mix of poets, some first-timers – including Elana’s friend Pam who, until a week ago was always just Elana’s friend Pam but is now Pam, the dancer AND poet; and Rachel, who I’ve known for five years but never heard read before and finally did so in a slam! – and finally some balance of women and men on the stage.
We ended at a decent time (!) and, for the first time since I’ve been back, wound up at French Roast for food and conversation. French Roast has been the scene for some of our most ridiculous after-show “hair-letting-downs” and tonight didn’t disappoint. We even got our usual spot in the back “room.” A handful of old-timers with some corruptible newcomers mixed in, it was the kind of irreverent, politically-incorrect craziness that reinforces the connection that we have to each other.
This is where we all really get to know each other – away from the poems, the alcohol, the hangers-on. It goes beyond poetry but there’s no doubt that poetry is the glue.
If you’re looking for voyeuristic details, you’re out of luck, nosy. You just have to be there.
‘night…
