Last night got sucked into March Madness as the café that had been full all day emptied to just myself and the 3 baristas, the nearby college was hosting a game and playing that night in the tournament. I read the baristas a poem that was embarrassing for them and me; still they were nice about it and took the sting out of no one showing up for the reading.
I trusted a local poet who said she would get the word out, but on arriving no one had even bothered to put up the posters I had sent. You are vulnerable when you book a tour, hoping for the best when someone says, “Yes we’d love to have you come and read.”
Started off the day on television in Memphis, "Live at 9," with a trio of young star-search women in ball gowns, perfect make-up and high C voices, gorgeous young women and their nervous moms. Read “The Tyger,” and talked about working with Alzheimer’s patients. The hosts were great although shocked when I told them, "How to Make a Living as a Poet," is fiction.
Then this morning got a call from a radio producer that thought the Alabama reading was today! She still wants to do a story that will run in April for poetry month and I shall get my Alabama audience. Just after she called I pulled into Wyatt’s Bar-B-Que in Decatur. Ah, bar-b-que and sweet tea. Old shack, sauce been on the stove since 1829, greens and black-eyed peas for luck.