I Didn't Ask For Any Lip
My friend and I met as if on cue at the convergence of the taco trucks. He attends Fridays at the Oakland Museum regularly on his way home from work and agreed to meet when I told him about the poetry reading. We made a brief lap through the modest community of neighbors here at …
Continue reading "Working With White Noise or What It Means As A Performer To Have Social Anxiety"
I was the first to arrive at the venue Saturday night for the reading. The venue is a nurturing writing space for women in East Oakland, where my friend A_____ volunteers. If you hadn't been to the place before nor had the facebook invite, there's no way even the next door neighbors would know anything …
The restaurant was quiet and church-like. The wait staff and cooks outnumbered the guests. I walked towards the back and found a banquet room where a half dozen people sat quietly eating. They sat at one of the two long banquet tables in a kind of solemn thanksgiving. The woman hosting who'd emailed me sometime …
If you use a Yoruba chant to open a public event, welcoming the ancestors to join and be welcome in the proceedings, how do you close the ceremony and tell the ancestors, spirits-- thanks for coming! shows over now, yawl can go back to the far reaches of heaven or wherever... I ask because a …
Continue reading "The Spook By The Door (Who Wouldn’t Sit Still)"
I read as part of Litquake SF this weekend in the Mission, reading with the group Cave Canem. I went with Stewart, my friend and fellow CC member, who reached out and asked to join me when I went to the city. We made it to the gallery exactly on time, but first mistaking it …
The poetry reading Saturday night at the bookstore went well. However much I grumbled over being there on a Saturday night, the reading felt good and the poems were well received. The room was full of seniors, myself included; all men and women frosted by time. Their eyes I appreciated, especially the two older women …
There were several strikes against this poetry event having any audience at all. The first was it being scheduled on a Saturday afternoon at 3, when other even main event readings I've attended don't begin filling up until after sundown, irrespective of the day of the week. Second: beyond being asked by the events organizer …
Riding in a packed car after the reading last night, heading down to the bar, the driver said: Look at the moon. And at the end of the street, the moon appeared as if it were doing some burlesque feather dance with clouds. The woman crammed in next to me who'd been talking about her …
I was back in the Mission late Saturday evening. This is my old neighborhood and I miss it; the hot dog vendors and homeless sleeping under a blanket of pigeons at Bart, the bodegas and smoke shops, the taquerias and discount clothes stores. I passed bars, nearly wanting to go in, but I promised myself …
I've been holding a notebook full of poems but haven't been able to read any yet. The most important part of my writing process is running new material before an audience. Its not always enough to just read it aloud for myself (though that always helps) But part of the reason to create anything is …
The Dirty Rat 