Tonight I go by myself to Debbie Priestly's Open Bark reading at the Out of the Blue Gallery. This is by far my favorite open mic I've been to around Boston. The crowd is respectful, and they range in age from teenagers to eighty-year-olds. It's not slammy, it's not too insane, and -- miracle of miracles -- some people come just to listen.
It's not too crowded tonight because of the holiday, but the atmosphere is welcoming and conducive, and I enjoy the other writers' work and am excited to read here.
I only bring two poems I happened to grab running out of the house to catch the bus. One is an older one now from Paris, and another is a brand new one that I love, one that I read over and over after I wrote it just loving it. It's rare I write a poem I like that much, so I'm happy to debut it tonight in such a warm, open environment.
I could write more, but I'm tired and I have to work in the morning. Nothing is too bad. The world is calm tonight.