Oh, what a night. Early December back in 2011 was a sliver, a tiny slice of heaven. What a lady what a night.
My blood boiled for Boyle’s loquacious loveliness. Now I have witnessed, first hand, in real life, the sheer exuberant excellence associated with that young shooting star known as Megan Boyle. Sorry if I seem a bit excitable right now. I feel happy. I saw with my own eyes in the realest of life Megan pour her words out of her mouth in person.
It didn’t begin with Megan though. First we had Sarah Jane Miller, a Canadian, read some seriously bleak poems. One of the poems called God a frigid bitch, at least that’s the initial response before the protagonist began to love God, or at least have their way with her. Her poems were about child molestation, something that caused a large part of the audience to laugh, those sick twisted fucks.
Little Lungs, Little Hips was similar to Megan Boyle’s musical project. It was a bit different in that it was only one person playing a guitar. Ambient twee would be the best way of describing it, as it was cute and amorphous.
Finally Megan Boyle came up. Real life offered a different version then the online form. Her blog alluded to this sort of character but the real life presentation confirmed it. Megan Boyle mastered the art of cute awkward. Everything she did was cute and awkward. I was amazed. Here I thought my entire life was based around being horribly cute and awkward around people. Yet Megan Boyle beat me; beat me at my own adorable, charming game.
The host Joseph appeared extremely happy when it transformed into open mike night. Joseph was pretty chill. Apparently he enjoyed the audience’s attention and discussed his wish that women could have a ‘money shot’. He thought it would be sexy, he said. Everyone in the audience remained quiet as he explained he was drunk for a good reason.
Open mike night, whoa. I don’t know where to begin. There was Ashley; she read a poem called ‘Butcher’ about some kind of growling. Becky talked about smoking. Maggie Mays had a line about toe speaking that I wrote down because it was funny. Toe speaking seemed important to me. Daniel had good wolf imagery according to the audience members while the song ‘White Christmas’ played in the background, giving it a strange ‘The Shining’ type quality. Chris Hudson charged himself for therapy sessions. Sid Gold was an old chill bro who was a pro at this poetry deal. Jill warned us of the pornographic, arousing nature of her poetry. In her poem some guy sang about how great his cock was, even though it wasn’t all that. Lilly Herman wrote about Adam and Eve. Rich Baggy Pants discussed his might web presence with us once he had read his heart pissing fun poem.
Maybe I missed a few people. I’m sorry if I did. There were so many people and I’m a sleepy sloth. Someday I may stay alert for each reader though I think I did a pretty decent job. I’m glad I got to see Megan read finally and listen to some wonderful unknown (to me) poets. I’m not upset that I didn’t introduce myself but someday I may. Today just wasn’t that day.
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