Happy Year of the Horse! Sara Russell, happy to be a horse herself, shared a sheath of poems, definitions and old sayings–not just from the Chinese, but from Native American horse-worshippers as well.
Craig Gilbert read some of his comic verse, including one about what happened next to that nursery rhyme baby of rockabye treetop fame.
Michael Lara noted that he’d been preparing a piece on Noam Chomsky, but instead opted to recite the Faulkner short story “Wash,” which involves some of the characters from Absalom Absalom.
Saul Fussiner spoke of his “wander year,” a time of adventure and disorientation which had him road tripping with the poet Denise Levertov, settling awkwardly into the San Francisco punk scene, and –happy ending alert!–finding his calling as a teacher.
The artist Katro Storm was interviewed about his upcoming exhibit at the new gallery space within the YMCA building on the corner of Chapel and Howe streets. The show opens Friday.
I (Arnott) read a poem I love by mid-20th poet John Albert Holmes, “Holiday With Gods.” It was fitting, since Holmes had started the poetry program at Tufts which Levertov had later joined, and both poets lived and wrote in Somerville, Mass.
Throughout the evening, in bursts of dozens at a time, Craig and I read aloud a wide variety of limericks. Some were by famous authors (Joyce, Updike, Rushdie), some were scatalogical, and many referenced Yale (probably, it was said, because the name of the university conveniently rhymes with “tail”). We got through at least 80 limericks; I will duly post the whole lot of over a hundred on the site.
It was a small crowd, one of the smallest in GttP history, thanks no doubt to a full day of snowfall. Many scheduled presenters were unable to attend, and have promised to come next month. I’ll be listing them forthwith in another post. I appreciate the appreciative audience that did show up, including a nice young man who was passing through town on a sales trip from Rochester New York. He was frustrated that the city had cancelled school. “This should not have been a snow day,” he declared, and from his wintry New York vantage point it should not have been.
See you next month.