That’s All You’ve Got?

A Tuesday night poetry reading at the Beat Museum

Squeezed into a hard gray folding chair and

I’m not drunk enough for this shit but a friend is reading so I have to attend

A young man steps to the mike, yellow-blonde hair, barely old enough to shave

His hand trembles as he recites from the white sheet of looseleaf notebook paper

History is mystery, he reads

And our myths grow longer every night

Dramatic pause and the paper is folded, signifying the end

Polite applause

I’m thinking, that’s all you’ve got?

That’s it?

Paul Valery approached it with more poignance when he said

All history is nothing but myth …

each moment fades each moment

into the realm of the imaginary

Of course there’s always Sherwood Anderson who wrote:

The true history of life

is but a history of moments

Perhaps I just read too much

Which leads me to expect the same from those who want me to

Respect their written words