ars vocatus moriendi

Alan opened the meeting with a number poem called The Beauty Way which he had dedicated to Jim, the Math Guy. The theme was "beauty equates to math and harmony of nature" (per Larry). It began with some Navajo references to their way of life - mystic trails to another world, which Tim picked up on. Jim began to be a trifled riled over the unanswerable(?) question of which came first, math or science.

Jim then impressed us with The Suicide Note as Text: The Discourse of Last Recourse. "One does not perform a suicide, as one performs, say...a poetry reading." It was entertaining and clever and we learned one gross thing about suicide bombers which I will not repeat here. You can ask him.

Larry asked if his poem was a groaner. I didn't think so. The title Almost a Grand Union set the stage for his never-failing word play, with food and sex. Tim totally could hardly control himself and the rest of us chuckled.

Dan and Paul both brought us back to the sweeter side of life with Paul's recital of a School Concert and Dan's perfectly rhymed Christopher Robin's Prayer. Old Norman Rockwell raised his head - I've heard enough of this comparison, folks - again with regard to Paul's re-creation of a time and place. Alan deftly pointed out the emerging gang mentality, authority issues and ego submergence in Winnie the Pooh's crew. "Beware the Giants who linger here...Their waiting shadows, there and there..."

We got to vote on two versions of Mark's Seasoning poem. Picked the first person version with the second title. Another rhymer, perfect cadence and a lovely message. Larry asked what "salt of the earth" really meant and Mark looked it up on his IPad. Meaning: thoroughly good type of person.

Timmy's Questions provoked the most discussion of the evening, whether or not it successfully addressed the social conventions regarding mourning and why do people care so much what others think. It had several great verses, but to me, it missed the transition between the thoughts. Maybe too streamlined. Tim is committed to the poem and vowed to rework it.

The Purple Suit was an apt title for Ann's commentary on her relationship with her dad, which changed dramatically after her mother's death. I suggested portraying the change as happening more gradually and Ann seemed to agree. We talked at length and to no resolution about the role of the teeter totter. First, we had to describe a teeter totter for Larry.

I wrote a really stupid poem about my toe, which I am throwing away.

Alan will be performing at Cafe Lena on July 11 - sorry, July 7 at 7:30, preceded by group dinner at the Parting Glass, two great incentives for a Saratoga trip.

Afterthought - I just noticed a note I made regarding toilet seats having fewer germs than handles. You gotta watch those handles. And those automatic flushers.