Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
To paraphrase Margi Cates: a poetry slam is "visceral, confessional and a bit like stripping" ...in public, of course. ME: Something I wrote during the slam: TO ALL OUR AUDIENCES WHO DISRESPECT US To you who do not wish to hush, to hear our voices, who do not want our gift of words nor wisdom. We promise, if ever we receive one small reward: We will not hear your false applause: and we'll've long forgotten your faces. © Kåre Enga 2011-10-07 [168.161] So, slam was fine but not my cup of tea. Plus it can get loud, especially when held in a bar. I didn't enter because I was wary of the crowd, and although I do have stuff that is visceral and confessional I don't strip in public. It also demands energy I don't possess. This was part of the Montana Festival of the Book. Earlier I got to see friends as I attended one panel on memoirs and hung around talking to publishers of magazines. Two have submission dates about a week away. The other is more "rolling". I felt encouraged to submit... I have copies of all three mags now and have an idea what they are looking for; although, it's always a crap-shoot. Strolled around for part of First Friday. Saw more folks, including Clay and Clay (younger, not a name of my generation). Got to encourage a couple artists. That's a part I really enjoy! Off to bed? Not yet. Got things to do even past midnight. BTW... today was Day 4 of the little blue pill. It's prolly working. At least I think it's not doing any harm. 24,418 |