"Poets are terrible thieves"

(offhand remark from Mr. Willis)

Anyone wanting to car pool or parade to Quaker Street on Sunday should meet in the library parking lot and wait for others at approx. 1:15 p.m. If you need to be picked up at home, let me know. If the weather is totally awful, cancellation is possible and someone will call you. Yes, we are supposed to bring something to eat or drink. I am thinking, snacks, desserts, wine, beer, not dinner food. Art passed out maps at the meeting. It is very easy, altho a bit of a drive. Art, btw, had a successful book signing at the The Book House last weekend.

Entries are still be taken in the Perious Frink contest. Contact Alan. Alan was the recepient of a well-deserved $200 Poetry Prize given at the Colonie Library by the WmRobt Foltin group. He will use his earnings to continue to promote the publication of poetry. Alan truly performed for us last night by singing (!) his poem "The Ballad of Perious Frink and the Barrel Contest" to mixed reviews. I observed that it was hard to listen to the verse because of his singing. The tune sounded vaguely like "Sweet Betsy from Pike".

Okay, briefly now - Philomena got us talking about the old feminist quote about fish and bicycles. If you don't remember it, where were you in the sixties? Good poem about self image inspired by Cosmo.

Paul posted his "irrefutable logic", timely and universal poem about buying holiday gifts. Humbug. Dan, who is leaving for winter in Florida this weekend, shared his Singer's Prayer. It truly reflected his life.

We revisited Cathy's sad romance story about "The Last Good Day". Great atmosphere.
Beverly was also reflective upon finding an old photo of her mother and seeing her in a new light. She remarked that she had been learning from the group, which was nice to hear from a relative newcomer.

Art was particularly moved by Tim's portrait of his Aunt Florence who met an untimely demise at the age of 15. Some didn't quite get the mystery involved, but overall good review. Dennis did a good job of pointing out specific words to edit. Art said it gave him a whole different view of Tim as an artist.

We also effused over Art's "Fuddy Duddy," which I pointed out was in an enhancing type font. Page setup became part of the energy. Dennis called him the Zen Master. And, at last, a Sullivan poem that was enthused at by all, I think. I loved his opening of "the moon, a tiny sliver of a thing, a lemon twist in a ceiling of gin". Nothing better than that.

Obieduid read his homage de t.c. reluctantly because t.c. was not there to hear it. I won't spoil a future presentation except to say that it inspired a lot of comments, a little controversy and was well-liked.

Lots of good stuff tonight, my favorite again being from our Irish Traveler (Mike B.), who absolutely cracked us all up with "Piano Player". Tim was practically convulsive. I needed a good laugh, and it was a good one, before bringing us all down with "My Mother's Grief", extrapolating about my mother's absence of grief over my father's recent death. Mr. Willis cleverly identified the filaments of Alzheimer's gunk attacking her brain.

We had to cut short a promising conversation about the necessity of explaining or letting poems stand on their own. To be continued, I imagine. See you Sunday. Almost forgetting, I announced my impending 7th grandmotherhood. Great joy in Mudville.