Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked from Stone Soup's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, this poem doesn't go up because it's ready, it goes up because it's Friday morning.
It does once again, at least, now that I'm back from vacation. John Lane featured last night. The day he featured was moved to Thursday due to a scheduling issue at the gallery. I'm grateful for John's flexibility. I'm grateful to everyone who showed. We even had a visitor from Barcelona who follows Oddball Magazine. I think I'll keep my Facebook pages going for a while longer, evil as they are.
A large part of inspiration came from John's poems. Some in his new book dry stick prayer, some not. The rest came form the impending pandemic. Yes, that's where my mind is. We're all screwed. Thanks for reading anyway.
Edit: The date has been changed due to a scheduling conflict.
John Lane was one of the new people I met through Stone Soup's last home at St. Paul's Cathedral. The open mic gained a new friend, and I looked forward to seeing him get published more. Now he has a new collection from No Fixed Address Press and a feature with us on February 27. This is a big occasion for me, and I hope you show up for it.
I wish there were more than this in The Boston Globe. I appreciate the family doing this, as printing obituaries doesn't come cheap for anyone. Still, to have only this feels unacceptable.
Addendum:By that, I mean the Globe, or SOMEBODY should do a follow piece in SOME local paper.
Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked up from poems overheard from Stone Soup's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, this poem doesn't go up because it's ready, it goes up because it's Friday morning.
We had another all-open mic last night. My personal challenge for this week was prompted by John Lane who last week mentioned during the open mic that he was getting tired of writing poems about poetry. As someone who's written more than a few of those myself, I could sympathize.
On one had, what else is an unheard poet in America going to write about? On the other hand, it was a nice challenge to take up. This poem started to take form as a poem about poetry, but I took a hard no and steered it toward...something else. Thanks for reading.
Outreach
Welcome as a shipless mast
on a busy street in India.