This week I attended a new local spoken word evening. It was an interesting event, although I could have done without the drunken man in the black overcoat and hat who talked all the way through the evening oblivious of what was taking place around him. It is unusual to encounter such a level of self-absorption. He was talking about the great Sam Cooke some of the time and insisting that his swan song, A Change is Going to Come, was entitled A Change is Coming... Close but no cigar.
With the assistance of the Secret Poets I have redrafted this week's poem. You can read the pervious incarnation here.
THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY
A Friday night hotel bar
he’s a couple or three drinks ahead of me
his every word is big voiced into his phone
he is deconstructing his heart
I’m the other side of a flimsy partition
trying to camouflage my listening ear
I can’t pull out pen and paper
to record his every heartfelt word
Can I?
The poem wags a finger in my face
Whispers: this one’s not going to happen
As you can see I have removed a line that was superfluous and respaced the poem. I am still not sure of it amounts to anything serious, but I am satisfied with it.
I suppose given the poetry evening events I should leave you with Sam Cooke.
Until next time.
It is a good feeling - knowing that a poem is finally in its best version! I think the space around the question (Can I?) provides the perfect pause! - Rajani (http://thotpurge.wordpress.com)
ReplyDeleteThank you Rajani, it's good to hear a confirmation
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