Invocation, February 19

The peripatetic/nomadic open mic host R.M. Engelhardt has found another home for his current incarnation of Invocation — at Ophelia’s, which was once Red Square, where in 2005 Engelhardt once hosted an open mic titled “Listen.” Tonight, he started off with a reading of the well-worn poem, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas, which he read for the passing of his father.

The space had a small stage with a scattering of folding chairs, but no place to put my beer except under my chair — I was careful & didn’t kick it over. 

First up on the sign-up sheet was Ian Macks reading from a new book, Identity Crises, the first piece a rant on Kanye West, then a poem about Trump, “Quarantine” — Ian got away at the end of the night before I could buy his book, maybe next time. 

Charles Lapinsky read his poems from plastic sheets, the first titled “Little Puff of Wind,” then a youth memoir of NYC “Love is Just That,” a poem set in the morgue “Still Life.” Austin Houston began with a political piece titled “True Colors,” then one about a meeting, “The Devil is My Friend.” Samuel Maurice read an automatic writing rant titled “Open Mic Scene Set on Lark St., for Alex Stokes,” then a piece about a car crashing into a hydrant, from his book Vibrant Sounds, Colors in Motion (Deadman’s Press Ink, 2023). 

Rob took the stage next, carrying a cane, actually quoted Lord Byron about “carrying a cane,” & read Elliot Richman’s poem “Death Camp at Walden Pond, then to a couple poems, “Waiting” & “Underground” from the forthcoming from Deadman's Press Ink (but previously issued in 2020) The Bones of Our Existence: A Journal of 2046. Later, he gave me a galley proof, nicely inscribed to me. 

Pat Williams is a frequent reader at Rob’s open mics, wherever it may be; tonight he read a poem in short line rhymes, “Forest of the Trees,” then one about a beaver, “Dam It.” I followed with a poem inspired by a passage in Walt Whitman’s Specimen Days, “Here I Sit In Solitude…” & by a visit to Crystal Springs in Laurel, NJ, which had inspired Whitman, then my annual birthday poem, this year’s titled “Self-Portrait with Cat.”

Lady Shevone (that’s how she signed up here tonight) has read a few times at the Third Thursday Poetry Night at the Social Justice Center; tonight she read a couple pieces that sounded like breakup letters or notes critical of friends, “Let Me Say It Outloud” & “Sort of Out.” Elvira Horbata’s first poem was titled “Isis” & was like the Goddess of Love speaking advice to her, then read an untitled piece about trying to make a decision. Austin came to the stage again to read an untitled piece, like a prayer, from a pocket notebook.

Ophelia’s at 388 Broadway, Albany, NY is the new home to Invocation, on the third Wednesday, sign-up at 7:30PM, open mic starts at 8:00PM — bring some poems & check it out.