Attended my first "open mic" event at a local coffee house, called Tuvalu, in magnificent "downtown" Verona, WI (downtown is about 4 blocks square & much of THAT is residential) last night. Read some of my poems - old stuff for Rochester crowds but totally fresh and new here. 

Much of the event involved some pretty bad singers & guitar players, but this is "down home" open mic and everyone is supportive no matter what. One outstanding performance, though, by a young black man (well, young to ME) by the name of Damon Reed who grew up on the mean streets of Fort Worth, TX, and did a 4-part poem/story/spoken word performance that left my jaw on the floor the entire time. Unfortunately he hasn't recorded anything for youtube yet. I encouraged him to do so. I did SO want to share his performance with friends. 

Of course, the content of his story was very familiar. Could have been one of my neighbors on Chili or on Union Street. I told him so, after getting his card. 

But he's a success story. A survival story. A somehow-managed-to-turn-it-all-around story. His word play, his mixing of his own song and well-known urban-inspired songs plus prose, plus poetry. 

Reminds me so much of what I left behind. Had to leave it & am glad I did. But my life in Rochester is definitely bubbling its way up into my creative consciousness and work. Sometimes you just HAVE to leave in order to get the right perspective. 

Coffee house also reminded me of what we lost with Boulder.