memoir · Recent · Writing

Bad Poetry Ahead

I’ve started going to an open mic night, here in the city. A friend of mine encouraged me to go, so I did. The open mic takes place at a quirky little pizza place/bar that serves stellar pizza and boasts a decent beer list.

So I went, to hear my friend read. She wanted me to sign up, too, but I insisted that I don’t read my poetry–it goes up on this blog, where people can choose to read it or not. But it’s certainly not good enough to read in front of people.

But I enjoyed it, and everyone was so supportive. Plus, I realized that some of the poetry was certainly much much better than mine, but some of it was worse than mine. I’d fit right in the middle.

I went and I read. I read “Twisted Up” and “Ophelia“, both products of my National Poetry Writing Month endeavors. I wasn’t sure how these poems would go over, but I just picked them.

And I wasn’t booed or laughed off the stage. I didn’t get stage fright. I felt good, getting up there and sharing my work.

All of this is to say, I’ll be writing more bad poetry for open mic nights, and I’ll also be sharing it here, so stay tuned.

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