At the Monday night poetry forum
we take turns behind the mic stand
like bartenders
trying for that alchemical mixology
that intoxicates the crowd just so,
their ears all bellied up to the acoustical bar:
on a base of quotidian narrative
toss in a dash of striking imagery
splash of metaphor
finish with a zest of alliteration
serve it up in sonorous smoothness
with no more, no less, than two skewered pauses
and let them take it in;
wait for that elusive reflex from the palette,
that "Mmm" that "Ahh"
Comments
Benjamin Gorman
January 9, 2012
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At the bar
This one comes from the fact that the poetry forum I (sometimes) attend meets at a local bar. Good crowd tonight for the post-holiday resumption.
Benjamin Gorman
January 9, 2012
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and by the way
I read two of my pomes from this blog tonight!
Guess which two!
Jennifer Dixey
January 9, 2012
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My guess ...
"First Snow of Winter" and "Ouroboros"? They would be timely (post-holiday resumption and all). Of course that could be true of the broken chair poem as well, because of the snow imagery. Good on ya for reading some of your work here at the open mic. That warms me heart, me boyo.