After a crazy week of a semi-intruder in the house, 4 cats hanging out in the basement, my voice bailing via a headcold so I had to make major poem subs, et cetera, leading up to it — and a friend’s calamity the morning of — I somehow made it to the PTAOW feature. I don’t remember anything but the good-natured audience and the splendid little girl who gave me Valentine’s candy after, but apparently I didn’t botch it.
I have a habit of writing myself notes in case stage fright freezes me. Good thing. I subbed two poems and tossed in a bar from a Bob Dylan song at the last minute, for reasons I couldn’t tell ya, but I had notes here and there. Some pushy broad directed “Read_____!” Whatever possesses me to read in public? Who knows? Thank you to the hosts, the open mic readers, and the exceedingly patient audience for making the mad dash to the Red Line on a Sunday worth it. I missed my co-feature Charles.
Thank God I didn’t hear about Whitney Huston until after. Words might have failed me.