
I went to Salisbury on Tuesday to read poetry. Poetika happens in an upstairs room at a rather nice pub. I had a vegan dinner with an Italian lady I met there. My Italian is virtually zilch, but she spoke enough English for us to get by.
Theme of the poetry was nonsense, so I read the piece about the pig and a version of a poem I had emailed to a friend to print for me, but he didn’t see the email. I quickly cobbled together some of the lines.
There was a guest poet who does a lot of comedy and cabaret in London. She grew up in Salisbury and did not fit in, as her Dad is, or was black. She then related through her poetry how hard it was to fit in in London because of the lightness of her skin. She has a lot of talent.
I stayed the night with a friend, whose wife I met for the first time. We walked home together, and she kind of assumed that I had never been able to drive. This did not offend me, she is lovely and very enjoyable to be with, but I need to reset something about me to alter some perceptions. I never proclaim my skills and accomplishments, they just come up in conversation. So what if that conversation never happens? I am not concerned. I just can start telling people what a novice I am with buses.
On medium.com my articles are being read, and I’ve got a thousand followers in just two weeks.
I find writing satisfying there. So many positive vibes.
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