Poetry Pays?

Tonight I was the featured reader at neighborhood spot. Because I know the emcee/founder of the monthly event, I have been invited to attend a number of times, but only went for the first time last month. It was that night that I was asked to feature at the April meeting. The readers this venue attracts are more of the spoken word/performance variety, so I wondered how well my pieces would go over. In any event, the last two months of my life have been about being stretched, doing things I don't normally do, and being woefully out of my element.

I think there was some appreciation for the poems, though they didn't inspire the same kind of response as the other poets' work. It's just a very different kind of scene, but there were appreciative nods and little verbal affirmations from the crowd as I read. I'm glad I did it, though I was inifinitely more comfortable last night at the university gathering (or months ago now, at my own reading) where my "ivory tower" brand of poetry is the flavour of choice.

The surprise of the evening was when a collection was taken up for me because, to quote the hostess, "we don't believe in starving artists." I left the place with my pockets bulged from wadded up ones (and a few fives and tens). I don't think poetry has ever put money in my pocket before. There's a first time for everything.