Boston Poetry Massacre report, Friday

So we started out around 10:45, going to pick up the car at the rental place at 12:00. Took us till 12:45 to get it, and another half hour to get it back to Brooklyn. Loaded up, picked up Shafer and Lucas and got on the road close around 2:30, thinking we had plenty of time to arrive before 7:00 to catch the first readings, etc.



But I missed the turn off for the Triboro Bridge, and had to backtrack from the LIE, so that put us back about 30 minutes.



Then in Connecticut we hit the snarliest traffic snarl I have ever witnessed. It took 2 hours to travel from Exit 17 to Exit 25--I was going mad in the driver's seat. We moved so slowly for so long the road stripes played an optical illusion on me--it seemed the road was slipping toward the car, instead of the car rolling over it. Finally, I had to get out. At 6:00, we pulled over for some roadside nourishment, such that it was, and after getting back on the highway, I drove like a hellion, trying to make up some time. Gina and Gabriella were in the same snarl, apparently, a little ahead of us. As Gina noted in her report, our goal changed from trying to make it by 7:00 for the first readings, to trying to make it by 9:00 for my reading.



Jaime Corbacho & John Cotter called--or Shafer called them--a couple of times to check our progress and update [expurgated]. When it became clear that there was no way in hell I was going to make it, [expurgated] agreed to rearrange a little to accommodate me. And yes, dear readers, this made the second time I was egregiously late to my own reading at Wordsworth's. Sheesh.



So we arrived in Cambridge about 9:00, and parked and reached the store about 9:15. I grabbed the chaps and hauled ass to the second floor, just in time for the end of the break. No time to breathe or pee, I was immediately on, looking road-weary I'm sure, and still a bit traffic-dazed. I managed to say quick hellos to John Mulrooney, Noah Gordon, Mark Lamoureux, Chad Parenteau. and a few other folks on the way in.



But...I also didn't have time to get nervous.



I read from Down Spooky and Big Confetti--I didn't have time to unpack the newer poems I'd planned to read. I think I did "Li'l Undergraduate Disaster," "We the Blind Need Pushing," "I Am Not Related to Any of You Yet," "Will That Be All Mrs. Kickboxer," and "Under This Umbrella Is Another Umbrella" of the spookies. When I started to read "Under This Umbrella" I explained that Stephanie had donated the title and asked if she was in the audience. She stuck up her hand and we met right there--so that was fun. Then I did a few from Big Confetti--"Elegy for a Fictional Strongman," "My Huge Napoleon," "Mouth Made Out of Trees," "Thick As, Um, Thieves," and "Those Days of Pomp & Vigor," if I remember correctly. Shafer providing humorous heckling throughout.



Be sure to see Stephanie's report for the scoop on the readings that night! I was really bummed out to have missed this whole stellar lineup.



UPDATE: Shin-Yu (who somehow I missed meeting!?) also has a great highlights report from Friday. And it was standing-room only! Not just Friday, but pretty much the whole weekend. Amazing!



After the readings, Shawn and I ran over to the hotel to check in and park the car. We cleaned up and changed, then met Jen, Ada, Shafer, John, Jaime, Lucas, Sybil, and Douglas Rothschild at Hong Kong--a three-floor restauarant/bar/dance club near in Harvard Square. The drinks were communal (as so much else that weekend), served in giant mixing-bowl size containers with multiple long straws. (I sipped one, but am allergic to pineapple juice so stuck with vodka tonics). Met Ada's fried Matt and Douglas's friend Catherine, as well as poet Autumn McClintock. Shawn and I snuck out around 1:00--exhausted and knowing we had to get back on the road the in the morning for a wedding in Wellfleet (though come next morning, we actually missed it; more about this later).



Friday was too rushed for any photos, unfortunately. But I made up for it later.