Meeting Other Bloggers

I went to the Bowery Poetry Club last night with Nancy from Up The Down Staircase; she read a couple of her poems during the open mic. I was not so brave, though one of my goals for the next few months is to do more creative writing and possibly get up the nerve to read something at an open mic. I love the atmosphere at the BPC - friendly and welcoming but not too touchy-feely, always pushing the line of bad taste, rarely sexist or misogynistic, a place where if you visit often enough, they remember who you are. I need to check out some of the other open mics and slams around town. Nancy pointed me in the direction of poetz.com, the website of the Pink Pony reading series at the Cornelia Street Cafe, and home of a fabulous calendar of poetry events in NYC (they also have calendars for other regions). I've been to the Nuyorican, the godfather of poetry slams, but although I liked the place a lot, it has become too popular for its own good, with long lines, trendy crowds, and rising admission costs.

There's a story that's been sitting in my mind for a couple of years now, something that happened when I was a second-year teacher, in my old school. It's a story that I need to tell, and I've felt for a while that it might make a good poem. So last night, inspired, I guess, I sat down and hammered out a first go at telling this story. Since this is my space to tell these stories, read on.