2nd Tuesday All-Genre Open Mic out of Bennington, June 9

I was able to Zoom in this month, always an eclectic mix of poets from elsewhere. As usual, our host & moderator was Charlie Rossiter from his living room, & we did 2 rounds, not always in the same order this night.

I was up first & in my 1st round read a poem written (& titled) “June 3, 2007,” remembering the great gone poet Allen Ginsberg, & my own life intersecting. In the second round I read another older poem that I recently turned into a poem card, “Hidden Cafe Table Poem.”

Bill Thwing did his thing with his guitar, a song for his 1-year old granddaughter, Clara, “Our Sweet Little Buttercup,” her smiles now, the things she’ll do as she grows up. Then another song in his 2nd round, “Swept Away” about a dream of standing in a stream, that somehow led into a group discussion of AI.

Sharon Smith began with one of the 1st poems she wrote 7 or 8 years ago, “Between the Hidden & the Revealed” (which she included in her 2022 collection, reflection: poems. The 2nd time around she read a dream poem, “June 6,” which is the anniversary of her father’s death.

Our host, Charlie Rossiter read a poem I remember hearing years ago, a memoir of his father as a bad example, “Drinking While Driving.” His 2nd round poem was also a memoir titled “Eating Scrambled Eggs at Midnight Thinking of Blummie,” a woman who was not related but sort of “an extra grandmother.” 

Ginny Folger read he poem “Insomnia” that she has just heard has been selected for publication in Eclectica Magazine. In round 2 she also read a memoir poem, this titled “Visit.”

A regular here, Tom Nicotera, read a brand new poem, “BookTender” about librarians as bartenders listening to patrons, not just stackers the books. For his 2nd round he read a Father’s Day poem, “Dreaming of Fish: for My Father” about their time fishing together.

It had been a night of memoir which Mark O’Brien capped off in both of his rounds, first with “Fermented Childhood,” then in round 2 with another childhood memory of being at a local military firing range “I Have Never Found an Arrowhead” but lots of brass instead. 

One never knows where the poets show up from at this Zoom gathering held on the 2nd Tuesday of each month. If you’ve been “here” previously Charlie has your email address & will send you the link each month; if not, send an email to Charlie at charliemrossiter@gmail.com & ask for the link — it’s worth the effort.