There were a few things missing. The whir of a cappuccino being made in the background. Candles. Soft whispers from the crowd. Maybe some New Age music. But nonetheless, a cozy and relaxed gathering for some free spirits. Pajamas were not only allowed, after all, but recommended. It took place at Room #2 on the left, Upstairs Avenue. I was bestowed the honor of reading from the greats: Seuss, Silverstein, and Prelutsky.
They got emotional. Some even dirtied their diaper. But all members of this Poetry That Rhymes and Chimes Fan Club were in the same room at the same time, and it wasn't mealtime, and they weren't zombied out in front of the TV, and everybody was in a fairly decent mood, so I thought it was an evening worth recording. But do you think I could get ALL four of them to look at the camera at the same time and say cheeeeze? It’s like reciting Fox in Socks without a single stammering. Some things are just next to impossible. This picture was as close as I could get. Kyra, being the least cooperative of the group. THEN AGAIN, I've got to remember their free-spiritedness, their We-don't-need-to-smile-and-look-in-your-friggin'-camera-to-exude-our-inner-beauty selves.
That, and the unspoken group motto: Be real. Be true. And rhyme it with poo.
Sounds like fun, certainly more palatable than the usual poetry gathering at the local coffee shop, where everyone looks half asleep and smells of pachouli.
ReplyDeleteOf course, that's just me being cranky.