(no subject)
Today I went to a poetry reading at the Cabaret Cafe. I didn't read anything, although I certainly could have. Most of the poetry was of the telling-not-showing kind, although some of it kicked ass. An old lady who read near the beginning was the best. Her stuff was really bold and dignified. I want to be her someday.
Amazingly, it was standing room only by the time I arrived. The place was packed with retirees and teenagers, Mexicans and Asians, hippies and soldiers. No one listened very well, but everyone had something to share. The more I think about it, the more I conclude that amateur writing groups show people at their ugliest and most vulnerable.
Amazingly, it was standing room only by the time I arrived. The place was packed with retirees and teenagers, Mexicans and Asians, hippies and soldiers. No one listened very well, but everyone had something to share. The more I think about it, the more I conclude that amateur writing groups show people at their ugliest and most vulnerable.