There was a very good slam at Writers' Block on Wednesday night. Twelve poets signed up. That's lot of poets. I got the twelve spot and waited though some good poetry. People brought out some new work. I did an older one, one I think I've only read once, and not in a slam. It's about the local Craigslist Missed Connections and this worker at Microcenter who gets a lot of attention.
I was surprised it scored well and put me in second place going into round two. Here I did another poem I had only read once or twice, and again, never used in a slam. A piece of self loathing called I Got Nothing that was not my best effort and I plummeted in the standings as other poets did very strong work.
Finished tied for fourth place. Just getting into the second round was my goal, and I achieved that. Going to have to work a lot harder though. Bars have been raised, the pitching is live.
Twenty five years ago today I woke up late from my bed in the now torn down house on White Street. Turned on the television to see the noon news and specifically wanted to know how the Sabres did the night before.
Saw that, and Dan Rather instead. Had to work at East Main Liquors at two.
To escape that sad memory - the late 1970's was a strange time to be a teenager. Heavy metal, rock and it's various forms, disco were all in my face, demanding my attention. I tried ignoring it all, preferring to hide in the basement. How could you when these two were on NBC as a summer replacement series.
Then there's this.
That's where my head remains to this day.