We Get Paid for Reading Our Poetry, Sort Of
This was years ago, of course, so long ago that neither of us had cars and I had only recently stopped writing poetry that rhymed, so that (insofar as I knew) there were only two of us in Niagara Falls, New York, who were writing poetry without rhyme. So Don Wagner showed up at my house carrying his notebook and said,"Hey, they're having a poetry reading at the Russian Orthodox Church in about an hour and we've been invited to go there and read our poetry!"
Well, that was exciting and I grabbed my pages of poetry and off we went. We walked about halfway across town to the church. I'd only been dimly aware of its existence before this. It wasn't a tall building but had an impressive golden dome. We knocked on the heavy front door. It swung open and a young man stood blocking the entrance. "Hi," Don said,"we've been invited to read here today." He said his name and introduced me.
"Good," the young man said. "That'll be three dollars."
We hesitated.
"Each," he added.
"We get invited to read our poetry and have to pay to get in?" I asked.
"It's a cover charge," he said.
Don and I looked at one another and each could tell what the other was thinking. Cover charge this, was pretty much the instant thought we'd had. Simultaneously, we turned our backs on him and started down the walk.
"Wait! Wait!" he yelled. We'd gotten about seven or eight steps away. "Since you guys are going to read, we'll waive the cover charge."
So we went back and read.
I don't remember a damn thing about it. I don't remember how many people were in the audience, which of us read first, which poems I read, if they liked our work, if there were refreshments and lighted candles, someone plucking on a guitar, nothing.
I am going to ask Don about it one of these days. We have gotten a few laughs over the years about those moments standing in front of the door of the Russian Orthodox Church, but have never talked about what went on inside. If I find out something interesting I will let you know.
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Well, that was exciting and I grabbed my pages of poetry and off we went. We walked about halfway across town to the church. I'd only been dimly aware of its existence before this. It wasn't a tall building but had an impressive golden dome. We knocked on the heavy front door. It swung open and a young man stood blocking the entrance. "Hi," Don said,"we've been invited to read here today." He said his name and introduced me.
"Good," the young man said. "That'll be three dollars."
We hesitated.
"Each," he added.
"We get invited to read our poetry and have to pay to get in?" I asked.
"It's a cover charge," he said.
Don and I looked at one another and each could tell what the other was thinking. Cover charge this, was pretty much the instant thought we'd had. Simultaneously, we turned our backs on him and started down the walk.
"Wait! Wait!" he yelled. We'd gotten about seven or eight steps away. "Since you guys are going to read, we'll waive the cover charge."
So we went back and read.
I don't remember a damn thing about it. I don't remember how many people were in the audience, which of us read first, which poems I read, if they liked our work, if there were refreshments and lighted candles, someone plucking on a guitar, nothing.
I am going to ask Don about it one of these days. We have gotten a few laughs over the years about those moments standing in front of the door of the Russian Orthodox Church, but have never talked about what went on inside. If I find out something interesting I will let you know.
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