Poetry
So I got an email from a friend giving me a heads up about a poem. He told me all about the poem for there was a personal connection. The poem was about me. Although I didn't get to hear the actual poem, this poem got me thinking back to when I first discovered poetry.
My first introduction to public poetry was back in the winter of 89 over at a bar in Benton Park. My friend Jim and I had a car and were properly credentialed so we went to Benton Park to get a drink and see some poetry at this mysterious bar. I remember getting carded and walking into the place. It was surreal. It was new and had a reputation. And it delivered. It was visually amazing. And then we bought two drinks and listened to this guy scream up on the stage. I am pretty sure it was Paul Stewart. He would slowly walk through the house swaying back and forth like Frankenstein. He would shout "PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES!!!!" over and over. And it was all done in a sing song manner. The poet seemed so distressed and slightly deranged. But it was fun/funny. He was shouting about peanut butter sandwiches, which is my favorite food. I liked it, but I didn't go back to that bar in Benton Park or any poetry night for a few years, instead opting to test my credentials at Kennedy's to slam dance to the Nukes, the Urge and Sinister Dane. That was more my thing.
Now my full introduction of public poetry was a few years later in the early 90s. I used to work at Mangia Italiano. That was a trip. It was a few owners ago. I worked for Doc and the fantastic Micci. It was a trip on the raw and homey South Grand in those days. Micci usually walked around with her bird, Claudia, on her shoulder. Claudia was cool too. She would hide the bird in a cabinet every time the health inspector would come by. I worked poetry night, so that meant I sold a lot of ice teas with no dinners and everyone was allowed to go up and say whatever they wanted to. That was something else.
Bob and Sherri hosted most of the poetry nights. This was before they opened the Way Out Club. It was quite fun having them host those evenings with that crowd. Bob would get up every once in a while and riff. He pretty much does it on KDHX now with his always pleasing Barroom Bob segments between Collateral Damage and Topic A. I don't know if it would fit in to everyone's interpretation of poetry, but I would say that a lot of things that are said on poetry nights would not be defined as poetry by many. I have a pretty loose interpretation of poetry after being subjected to a weekly dose of poetry over a few years. I had gone up to say a few things, oh, maybe two or three times at those readings. I think I have only done it once since. I don't particularly care for public speaking and my spoken content is very mediocre and pretty boring, but Bob would coax me to do it so I always felt better about it. I would speak usually at the end of the night when no one was paying any more attention or way early when no one was there.
I have some interesting stories about the poetry nights at Mangia. I will save those for later.
But what about this personal poem?
So apparently there was a poem about me at the Get Born poetry readings over at Duff's. Oh, I feel special. The poem was written and performed by a former busser that worked here at the Royale. We had hosted the Get Born readings once. I can only imagine what was said. Seriously. I don't know if it was recorded or published. I am honored that I have been the subject of public poetry. I am actually amazed someone would spend time writing a poem and then reciting the poem in public. Maybe they will do a series. That would be sad. And a little creepy.
It is poetry after all.
P.S.
Apparently Get Born is having a reading tonight, March 3, over at Mangia Italiano, 3145 South Grand.
My first introduction to public poetry was back in the winter of 89 over at a bar in Benton Park. My friend Jim and I had a car and were properly credentialed so we went to Benton Park to get a drink and see some poetry at this mysterious bar. I remember getting carded and walking into the place. It was surreal. It was new and had a reputation. And it delivered. It was visually amazing. And then we bought two drinks and listened to this guy scream up on the stage. I am pretty sure it was Paul Stewart. He would slowly walk through the house swaying back and forth like Frankenstein. He would shout "PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES!!!!" over and over. And it was all done in a sing song manner. The poet seemed so distressed and slightly deranged. But it was fun/funny. He was shouting about peanut butter sandwiches, which is my favorite food. I liked it, but I didn't go back to that bar in Benton Park or any poetry night for a few years, instead opting to test my credentials at Kennedy's to slam dance to the Nukes, the Urge and Sinister Dane. That was more my thing.
Now my full introduction of public poetry was a few years later in the early 90s. I used to work at Mangia Italiano. That was a trip. It was a few owners ago. I worked for Doc and the fantastic Micci. It was a trip on the raw and homey South Grand in those days. Micci usually walked around with her bird, Claudia, on her shoulder. Claudia was cool too. She would hide the bird in a cabinet every time the health inspector would come by. I worked poetry night, so that meant I sold a lot of ice teas with no dinners and everyone was allowed to go up and say whatever they wanted to. That was something else.
Bob and Sherri hosted most of the poetry nights. This was before they opened the Way Out Club. It was quite fun having them host those evenings with that crowd. Bob would get up every once in a while and riff. He pretty much does it on KDHX now with his always pleasing Barroom Bob segments between Collateral Damage and Topic A. I don't know if it would fit in to everyone's interpretation of poetry, but I would say that a lot of things that are said on poetry nights would not be defined as poetry by many. I have a pretty loose interpretation of poetry after being subjected to a weekly dose of poetry over a few years. I had gone up to say a few things, oh, maybe two or three times at those readings. I think I have only done it once since. I don't particularly care for public speaking and my spoken content is very mediocre and pretty boring, but Bob would coax me to do it so I always felt better about it. I would speak usually at the end of the night when no one was paying any more attention or way early when no one was there.
I have some interesting stories about the poetry nights at Mangia. I will save those for later.
But what about this personal poem?
So apparently there was a poem about me at the Get Born poetry readings over at Duff's. Oh, I feel special. The poem was written and performed by a former busser that worked here at the Royale. We had hosted the Get Born readings once. I can only imagine what was said. Seriously. I don't know if it was recorded or published. I am honored that I have been the subject of public poetry. I am actually amazed someone would spend time writing a poem and then reciting the poem in public. Maybe they will do a series. That would be sad. And a little creepy.
It is poetry after all.
P.S.
Apparently Get Born is having a reading tonight, March 3, over at Mangia Italiano, 3145 South Grand.
Labels: Benton Park, get born, kdhx, Mangia Italiano, noman, peanut butter sandwich, poem, poet, poetry, punk, royale, south grand, st louis, way out club
posted by Steven Fitzpatrick Smith at 7:15 PM
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