Pizza Place Poetry Reading
An evening suspending in time, circa 2004
Milano’s greasy pizza joint
poetry reading competing
against arcade game machine
guns and scores of bleeping
victory
The man brings a mic
big black mic
with its big black box
in order to jack off
our creativity to the audience
L orders an entire cheese pizza
doesn’t manage to pawn off
one piece to anyone
K.G. walks in making
the door dinger ding
while the man responsible
for that invasive instrument
reads his run-on poem
Curly haired prof wears a navy suit
rustles into a red plastic seat
I sip my beer
feel the headache creep
A revises poems and emcees
Children play throw-the-baby
and keepaway under tables
while people eat in the small
adjoining room
Frazzled waitress slash busboy
scurries from table to kitchen
to phone and back again
JD enters, large black hair
charcoal suit and a nose
showing nervous pretension
barters for a place to sit down
wonders why we aren’t bowing
down when he reads his ode to
a mar-vel comic.
I stare at Loverboys
wonder whether I’ve chosen
the right poems
At the mic, I attempt
small talk
only “hi” emits from my mouth
In the back, an elegant black-clad
woman is almost drawn to tears
by my poem and finished
I sit down.
Aimée Gramblin, 2004
I guess I’ve always felt a little meh about Marvel, et al.
