Poetry reading feedback from today at the library. Hm.............
Poetry reading went well today: lovely, in the library, with view of the mountains. Huh what? You can talk aloud -- into a microphone -- in a library? Who knew? But in the middle of another poet's reading, this lady rushes up to me and goes, "did you WRITE all that stuff you've been reading?" "Um, yes," I whispered. Then she said "....................................!" I couldn't understand her, so I just said, "why thank you!" Afterwards, someone told me what she had said, which was, "You must be on drugs!" and since I had mumbled thank you, --- she strolled on, announcing to library patrons, "she's on drugs!" Um, like, NOT! What I'm ON is insomnia. And my weird writing, I guess. Now then, if she herself is not a druggie, then I guess that was no compliment. If she is, then it was, as in, we speak the same language. Or I suppose it could have been totally neutral. Anyway, too funny! At least to me. And by the way, this is how I introduced myself. I think it's a keeper: "Hi. I'm Julianza. In my past life I was an albatross. The recincarnation program fatally crashed, so, you know, here I am." Poetry readings, my friends, are fun to do. No matter your state of consciousness.
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Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into