Poetry Skillz

My roommate Hannah and I went to a coffee shop on Monday for one of her classes; there was a poetry-reading circle there that she had to listen to and write about in a portfolio for her poetry class. We got there around eight to find a small group of older people sitting in a circle in large armchairs and couches around a coffee table and chatting for a while, and we didn't want to intrude, so we ordered coffee and sat at a nearby table and found several boxes of jigsaw puzzles nearby. We selected one with pictures of kittens on a log surrounded by flowers and set to work immediately, drinking our coffee and listening to the people read their poetry. There were six people around the table, and another man sitting nearby who would chime in occasionally. 

The first man, Beard Man, read his poem about Adam and the right of men. It was a very interesting and well-written poem, although I didn't hear all of it. I found his poems throughout the night to be very insightful. There was a woman next to him who I'll call Anonymous Woman, because I don't remember if she read a poem or not, and I don't remember if she said anything interesting. The woman next to Anonymous Woman, River Woman, read a poem about rivers in Texas that I didn't find particularly interesting. I learned that there are fifteen major rivers in Texas and three thousand and something "major streams" which I thought sounded like an oxymoron. Then everybody talked about rivers for a while.

The next person, Portly Man, read a poem that I don't remember too well. His poems rhymed, but he spoke too quietly for me to hear. The woman after him was English Woman (she had an English accent) who read a poem about the Thames. River Woman pronounced it "Thaymees" which I found kind of annoying, and English Woman was quick to correct her. I realized at this point that there is a theme every week to the poetry group, and this weeks theme was rivers. The woman after English Woman, Newbie, was new and didn't have a poem. This was her first poetry circle, and she had heard about it through a friend. Then it was back to Beard Man. I don't even remember if Beard Man had a beard or not, but it just feels like he did. He read another excellent poem.

Hannah and I continued to work on our puzzle, and we worked on it for almost two hours, but we never got around to finishing it. At one point, a girl in the coffeeshop got up and went over to the circle to ask if she could photograph them for a college portfolio she was making. Hannah and I stayed quiet and focused on our puzzle. The group left around nine thirty, except for Portly Man who stayed back and played piano for a bit (there was an electric keyboard in the corner). CoffeeShopBarTender Man hung out behind the counter and chatted with us, and Portly Man eventually left after chatting with us for a bit. He apparently went to Trinity and graduated in 98. He was very friendly, and we all talked about Faulkner and other modernist writers.

Then he left and I played piano for a few minutes, and finally Hannah and I left. We decided we would make Monday night coffee shop visits something of a tradition. 

We stayed up late that night chatting and being silly, and ended up writing a poem of our own composed of lines we had said (and found particularly amusing) earlier that night. Here was the final result:

Actually, I Need One More Distraction

Did you ever realize

that when you tap your nose

you are actually tapping a part

of your face?

Do you realize?

Give me a character

that doesn’t have a seizure

at every chance he gets.

And I have tears

coming from my nose.

What do you do with extra strappage?

Sorry if that’s something that you don’t wonder

but it really is germane to my life at the moment.

High, high, high

in the night sky-

like a fly...

slowly waving goodbye

Good God, what was

in that coffee?

Gingle Berry