...I am not interested in poetry/ Poetry's another word for love....
I was Featured Poet at the Pour House Cafe last night.
I didn't mind rushing to leave the faire, since I hadn't had the best day, and it had started to rain anyway.
I didn't mind racing through laundry and a shower because I can be quick.
I didn't mind driving thirty-five miles, since I had good directions, traffic was light, and I found rock star parking in front of the venue.
I didn't mind that no one showed up for the poetry reading but me and the organizer, because these things happen sometimes and I got paid anyway, plus free food and coffee.
But when the organizer insisted that I use the mike to read my poems to nobody but her, that was when the evening became Officially Pretty Damn Stupid.
(I Am Not Interested In Love; Two Gentlemen of Verona; MacDermot & Guare)