Has it been a week already? Time flies when you’re NaPoWriMo-ing. Are you confessing this week? Leave me or Carolee a note so we can be all in your business!
A tale of two poetry events. This past weekend I went to not one but two poetry shindigs. One was the Newburyport Literary Festival. And last night I was at Gulu-Gulu Café at an open mike. Let me start first in Newburyport.
The festival certainly had a few well-known poetry figures such as Dana Gioia, Rhina Espaillat, X.J. Kennedy, and Lewis Turco. And the town supports the weekend event. But the lineup of authors was not diverse—maybe that’s reflective of the town. It wasn’t just that it was not a diverse lineup as far as ethnicity and race, but it lacked diversity of age and poetry styles. Personally, I was disappointed in the poetry events, but the crowd seemed to enjoy it. So while the festival is not for me, I do support community-based efforts even if they don’t appeal to me. These events keep poetry relevant. (Sorry, no pictures.)
As for the Gulu-Gulu event … well, that was whacked! The evening started out great—a well-managed poetry event with poets reading their work sand getting off stage quickly. But there was this nut job—who obviously was in with the person running the open mike. He monopolized the stage! At first, he was fun and his work was different. Sound poetry I’d call it. But as the night wore on, he got drunker and found his way back on stage at every opportunity. The event started at 5, and at 8:45 I was still waiting to read. We left because we had a sitter with the kids.
Now, Gulu-Gulu is a great little space for readings. I loved that Tim and I were able to hear featured poets J.D. Scrimgeour and Kevin Carey read their poems—excellent! And I sat at a table full of eclectic local poets. But really, it was a box-of-chocolates night. Or should I say carton of eggs. Did I mention that one of the readers spread a sheet of plastic on the floor and stepped on eggs in a pair of red pumps while reading her poem?
Top that, poets! (Sorry, no pictures. Wish I had a video camera.)
Where is Verse Daily? If anyone has the dirt please let me know. I really liked the poetry they presented. [Update--Verse Daily is up and running again. Woo hoo!]
What the f*ck is up with gas prices?
NaPoWriMo is coming to a close. FYI, I’m posting a meme on May 1 as a way of capturing the high points of April’s poetry. Come back and check it out.
Lastly, I had a dream about George Clooney. Why is this significant, you ask? This is Confession Tuesday, after all! Frankly, I cannot remember the last dream I had. Someone is always up at night in my house, so it’s hard to drop into a deep sleep. NaPoWriMo hasn’t helped.
While I don’t remember much, we were in Vegas, baby!—a la Ocean’s Eleven. A few coworkers showed up, surely a sign of stress. But a few friends popped in, too. Fortunately, George and I found some alone time. He looked great in a tux. And let me tell you—he thought I was the sexiest one in the room!