The invite popped up on Facebook. There was a lot of time on my hands and it looked so very interesting. It was a spoken word night at a local fashion house that I had never heard of. Prior to the death of a dear friend, I used to attend spoken word events at a special poetry house. One Erotic Poetry Night turned fatal as I put my head to slumber. Upon waking I learned that the kind hearted owner had been shot on the premises. With his departure, I left that world for other things without ever looking back. Saturday nights used to catch me in his poetry house simply admiring the poets. This invite inspired me to do it all over again.
Upon entry into the fashion house, I knew that my feet were taking me back to a place that felt so comfortable. My presence had been made for less than five minutes, and I already knew that I would return in the near future. The smell of the incense carried me to a place of familiarity. The hostess gave me the grand tour and introduced me to the owner of the house. The kind DJ bought me a drink. The night started off on an awesome foot. As the show got started, my custom made ear plugs came in rather handy. I wanted to enjoy the show without being disgruntled by the loudness of it.
The world music began with an ancestral drumming. I had never seen such a performance in a secular setting before. It was a pleasant surprise. A vocalist began crooning over the guitar, and she looked oh so vocal. She had the body of what would be considered a true queen: she was a big girl and sang like it. Her performance was the highlight of the night. Suddenly, the strong smell of alcohol interrupted me as did the now skunk scent of the incense. A feeling of escape soon overwhelmed me. I rushed into the arms of the hostess as I saw myself out.
When I entered my sanctuary, incense was burned and an alternative radio station was found. It was my desire to recreate my previous experience. What a lovely evening. There is another poetry night that is closer to my home tomorrow evening. Will I attend?