The poet's party

The poetry reading was very good last night; the reader did a great job and there was a pretty good sized crowd. Although I got pretty tickled at the end of the evening—there were lots of students, and I initially thought what an active group of students W University had, until I realized that a student docent in the back of the room was scanning people’s id cards. They have a cultural events requirement so many of the students were there for to fulfill that requirement. At the end of the reading most of the students lined up and got their ids scanned on the way out (apparently they expect you to stay for the entire event!), and then about ten people were left standing around to buy books and speak to the poet.

I’d already bought my book ahead of time, so I just lurked around while everybody talked and the poet signed copies of her work. They all seemed to know each other, and I just felt more comfortable waiting my turn without trying to chat up anybody else. But as I was speaking to the reader, the local poet came up and overheard us talking, and invited me to a party they were having after the reading! Who’d have thought?

I enjoyed myself very much. It’s been a long time since I talked to new people interested in the same things I am—certainly not in my home town. The poet and I talked about hot flashes on the porch when it got a little too crowded in the kitchen, and the visiting poet and I talked about the nature of class and politics in Irish women’s poetry compared to American women’s writing. It was really just lovely.