The works in this gallery cost more than my apartment would,
if my shitty place were ever to be put on the market.
The gallery hosts poetry once a month,
which is a great mitzvah, but I’m a little uncomfortable in the space.
If I break a display case, that’s a life savings,
right there.
I don’t have many of those.

Still, Alan opens the show with a series of acoustic instrumentals,
the audience is attentive,
and there’s free whine all night long.
I’m no drinker, but complaining is my jam.

When I came out the first time,
I showed up ridiculously early,
put my name near the top of the list, and ended up going first.
This time, my name is much lower in the list,
but so far, no one else has come in to follow up.
I’m the extent of the list. Oi.
It then the host of the night signs up at the very top,
and a couple of people put themselves before me,
and some other sign up afterward.

It’s not the rollicking event I saw last month,
but it promises to be a good time.

The host of this mostly female space
is a shaggy guy, soft-spoken,
who reads other folks’ material at the top.
He introduces the fine art on the walls,
and the artist is one of the ladies who runs this poetry series.
I flirted with her a little last time – though she may not have known it.
She’d designed the flyer for the show.

The first couple of acts are cool.
The second one, I recognize from before.
She promotes her open mic next week.
I’ll go if I can.
Then it’s me.
I read stuff I wrote specifically for this event.
I wrote it today, and I didn’t have a chance
to revise or rehearse,
so it’s not my best presentation,
but I don’t notice anything reprehensible in what I’ve done.
Not bad, Jon.
The host gives me a kind critique when I’m offstage,
and we move on.

The night continues.
Some of the poets have good material.
Some of them are inspiring enough for me to take notes
so I can riff on them later.
The reading ends around nine thirty and we all gather to chat.
I mostly talk to Alan, who introduced me to this scene
to begin with,
but I also chat with the artist, the one who’s hosting the other open mic,
the host of this open mic, and a very powerful reader.

It’s proven to be a good evening,
and I paid neither an arm nor a leg.