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PUNCH UP AT POETRY READING
02 December 1999
Two weeks ago I was invited to do a poetry reading, A poetry reading organised by a young woman by the name of Rivka. She ran a small poetry
magiziene called 'Cannon Fodder'. Many unknown and famous poets were represented in it. A good mag for those that like off the wall poetry. The
night promised to be a night of high class literature. But as it turned out it became a blood bath.
I turned up and met my friends at the back of the bar. I quickly got myself a pint of beer. Everyone in the audience was silent and were paying keen
attention to the poet who was on stage reading from a book of his own design. His name was Dan Power and he was reading poems about his
childhood.
"Oh to be young again.
When I had no feet or shoes
.
I would tip toe in the medows of long green grass
On my hands and knees.
Till I would come across girls
Then I would look up their skirts.
Oh to be young again.
When I could lift up two sacks of potatoes
In the church hall and not swet or moan,
But now I am old.
I am thirty and now I must die.
Oh woe is me.
Woe, woe, woe."
Dan finished and every one clapped politely. They nodded their heads in knowing and agreament like most poetry audiences do. Then Dan Power did
another poem.
"This one " he said. "Is entitled "The shed of life".
When I was young.
Big boys from the school would take me
Behind the shed and strip me naked.
With a pen knife they would
Skin my bottom till it was red.
Then afterwards they would give me my
First cigerette.
Oh woe is me.
Woe, woe, woe."
Dan finished his set. People clapped politly then Rivka who was running the show introduced the next poet. A small balding guy by the name of Matt
Twig. He spoke softly but firm. 'Hi there kids' He said. 'I am Matt Twig and I want you to listern to me because I like the sound of my own voice. I am
cultured. I am well versed in the works of Shakespear, Shelly, Keats. Let me impress you with my brain power. This poem is about milking cows in a
war zone. Its called "Who wasted my Milk".
I knew nothing of The horses.
I know nothing of the Donkey.
But I use to be a citizen
And when I'd eat sourkraut I'd fart like mad
And shit me pants.
Sometimes I would do ten tons of crap in me shorts.'
Matt Twig did several poems and songs. Hen there was a short break while they played some records and everyone went to the bar. I had time to talk
to my friends about John Zorn and Frank Zappa. I did not notice that the audience was drinking fast and getting louder. By the time I came on stage to
do my poetry and songs they were drunk and uninterested. One guy was so drunk he kept on falling over me and my guitar several times. Then four
bouncers picked him up and were about to throw him out side when Rivka jumped in to save him. Aparently it was her boyfriend. She came at the
bouncers with flying kicks and karatie chops. The bouncers responded by using tables and chairs against her.The police were called in. Tear gas was
used. I packed my guitar away and made a hasty exit. I got a cab just as the building burst into flames and military helicopters were spraying napalm
on people below. I was not paid that night.
SEXTON MING
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