Potrero Stage Theatre, first night sound check Prelude A friend calls monthly, like one would check in with a therapist. A mutual acquaintance has brought her to tears multiple nights. Who is open to just listening beyond me? Our years together, she's earned my patience. But one night she stopped and asked about me. How …
VOICES
The first cassette recorder I ever bought was the first adult machine I'd ever owned and it felt so thrilling it made me nervous. I immediately did two things with my recorder: At once, I began collecting theme songs to tv shows and sit-coms I watched (Not that anyone cared ) and second, I snuck …
Reading In Public
I consider poetry 'work'—reading it, representing it, writing it. Whereas my actual 9-5 means little of nothing to me. A solid exchange of my time for my rent. Thank you! I don't always enjoy showing up for work. Some days productive, others a slog, others: eh. So I endured the day in office, even the …
Ways Of Looking At A Poetry Reading
Part of drafting a poem is reading it aloud. Until its been read, it remains unfinished. * Midway through reading a poem I liked, I realized it was too long. I felt different about it as it was coming out of my mouth. Wrong room perhaps? Different kind of listeners? This morning I took that …
The Notebook
On the train coming into Sacramento, I spent the time shuffling back and forth through my notebooks, trying to come up with something of value, something deep to say, to a room full of 200 strangers about writing. And not just writing, but the hardest of all: Humor Writing. I've been fortunate with much gratitude beyond all …
Saul Williams
In the mid 90's Saul Williams helped change the landscape of delivering and reciting poetry. In his own defense he'd prolly cite folks I'm overlooking as equally influencial as himself, but I make the statement because I saw the change take place first hand. The first live performance of his I saw was around the …
Without Love, Your Poetry Is Irrelevant
Its been years since I'd taken the train to Sacramento. I don't exactly remember the last trip I made in the name of my biological family that still lives there. I didn't belong there. My birth-mother was right in giving me up and never looking back. For this trip, I bought my first cane. My …
The Dirty Rat 