30 Days: Day 16
The Essential Big Red: Selected Poems by Lynne Walker seemed like an intriguing way to spend a Monday evening, so I headed to the Main library for a reading.
I walked into the conference hall not knowing what to expect. How many people would be interested in poetry on a Monday night? Would it be interesting? Boring? Cool? Lame? Anyway, as it got started, I realized that most of these people, about 12 of them, knew each other, and quite a few were connected to the University of Toledo, either as students or profs, and even though they knew each other they managed to create an open, inviting atmosphere for newcomers. This was definitely a different feel than stumbling into a bar where everyone knows each other and marks you immediately as an interloper. There wasn't as much staring involved.
The poetry was fantastic! It was sexy, funny, lively, touching, and it may have been the full moon, the hormones, or the Pre-Valentine's Day angst, but it made me tear up several times. It wasn't love poetry in a traditional sense, but it was love of life poetry and it made me both want to live more and enjoy the living I've done. Who knew a poem about a hangover could be so touching? It wasn't anything I expected, and turned out to be a great way to spend the night.
I walked into the conference hall not knowing what to expect. How many people would be interested in poetry on a Monday night? Would it be interesting? Boring? Cool? Lame? Anyway, as it got started, I realized that most of these people, about 12 of them, knew each other, and quite a few were connected to the University of Toledo, either as students or profs, and even though they knew each other they managed to create an open, inviting atmosphere for newcomers. This was definitely a different feel than stumbling into a bar where everyone knows each other and marks you immediately as an interloper. There wasn't as much staring involved.
The poetry was fantastic! It was sexy, funny, lively, touching, and it may have been the full moon, the hormones, or the Pre-Valentine's Day angst, but it made me tear up several times. It wasn't love poetry in a traditional sense, but it was love of life poetry and it made me both want to live more and enjoy the living I've done. Who knew a poem about a hangover could be so touching? It wasn't anything I expected, and turned out to be a great way to spend the night.
posted by CJ at 2:09 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home