Art Expressions reading, take three

And I swear
That I dont have a gun
No I dont have a gun
No I dont have a gun

Ronnie was the host last night, taking over Lady Mariposa’s spot, who took over another girl’s spot. Hmm, I wonder if we’re rotating. Doesn’t matter, it doesn’t bother me if I will one day be asked to host a night. I have an idea for a poetry reading already, a sort of “Other People’s Poems” night where three or four people will read “Howl” with different interpretations (split up, not a repeated reading). El Senor vanished, sticking with Ol’ Biker instead. Because there was only three poets and one guest reader, meant that we were going to have a small cycle. Instead of a night poetry, we read a few pieces and talked the rest of the night about writing, politics, movies, actors, sex…sex.

Jyg and Bel attended the reading with me. In fact, they were the only two who weren’t writers or hosts of the place. Lady Mariposa’s quite the interesting person, of course I don’t believe it is necessary that everyone take a feminist class, but that’s just my opinion. Not that I’m anti-woman, but the term feminist has been bastardized by a group of women who don’t want equality, but to be the new man, per se.

I read my piece “Overheard Conversation at a Bar” and another poem that dealt with border wall situation.

I wanted to stay all night, alas that is not the case. We were hungry and we needed food in our bellies. We were invited by one of Jyg’s new friends to go to another place, but I didn’t want to go. Not that I hate the guy and how they met, but I just don’t like him. He’s a numbers guy. First day I met him, he just said his IQ number as if it meant anything to me. Not to mention the compliment/insult of saying that I didn’t read my own material. Let’s face it, when someone insists that I’m reading someone else’s shit, I take it to heart, unless, of course, I am reading someone else’s piece, which I normally introduce it at the beginning.

And on the subject of Jyg, another of her friends has fallen into the world of drugs. Shitty drugs and by the way Jyg described it, they don’t know what they’re doing taking these drugs. Ghetto drugs always make me laugh. There’s better, but more costly, drugs out there. And I’m not categorizing Cannabis as a ghetto drug because of stereotype, but this drug they’re doing, well there’s no coming back from it. I don’t care for the guy. He’s the bane of my existence. Even though things have changed, a part of me is still vengeful towards those who have tainted her. In away, the fact that he’s fucking up his life pleases me. I know, it’s bad to find joy in another’s misfortune and that it makes me just as bad as him, but fuck it. I never said I was a good person.

I have my own philosophy about drugs. Just as I have my own philosphy about sex, border patrol, and whatever. It may not be accepting, but it’s me.

Take your time
Hurry up
The choice is yours
Don’t be late
Take a rest
As a friend

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