Well, it's August 27th, and it's already fall. We've had a couple of cool days here, and the leaves are falling off the trees giving off that very distinct fall smell. It's nice, actually, but it makes me want to stay home under a blanket cuddling and reading books rather than going outside to bike in the rain. I've been doing it anyway, of course, and last night found myself at a little spot called the Cottage Bistro on Main Street. Let me tell ya, this place looked nothing like a cottage. It was a bit cold inside, and held a grand total of about 10 poets, all of whom frequent the poetry slam, there to watch and participate in The Poetry Show, which apparently happens once a month, and might as well be in someone's living room because everyone there was already friends!
Well, Alla and I took a seat and I ordered a whiskey, asking the bartender to surprise me. He made a perfect choice, and I have no idea what the whiskey was. By the time we switched to red wine, we were feeling much cozier, and sitting at another table, where all the friends managed to pull chairs together.
Considering the weather, I was ready to be entertained, not to participate in any way shape or form. I was not expecting poetry tag.
This is a game in which one person reads/speaks and then literally tags the next person. I told Chris, AKA Faust MacKenzie, that the last thing I wanted to do was play poetry tag, so of course he tagged me first. I begrudgingly went up and managed to speak one of the two poems I've only just memorized (by chance, I had no papers with me) and it went just fine! Being the attention whore and wine lover that I am, I was certainly ready for my second round.
In some ways, the intimacy of the night really made it. It was nice to be there with a bunch of poets, all incredibly supportive, listening to each other practice, play, whatever. And there was some beautiful stuff happening here, namely a certain poem by one Sean McGarragle. Other favourites were the aforementioned Faust, and, for novelty, the completely incomprehensible, sopping wet Kir.
I'll be back on the next rainy Tuesday for poetry tag, and come next time somewhat more prepared.