Poets Of Cambridge

My week two adventure looked something like this…. It was a dark and cool night. Two friends ventured to the green line only to be encapsulated for mere minutes until delivery to the red – taking us to an unknown land called Cambridge. Ok so it really wasn’t unknown as I had been there many times before but for nothing quite as special as this.

Jane and I ventured out that night to support our good friend and founder of The Year of 52 Adventures, Kim, in her first ever poetry reading. Let me back up for a moment and inject that the mere fact that Jane and I made it somewhere together and didn’t get lost or have an awkward train experience in and of itself qualifies as an adventure – but that’s not the focus of this particular post. This adventure wasn’t so much about the location where it took place or transport there. However the eclectic artwork that lined the walls top to bottom and side to side, the stray cat that seemed to be endeared by everyone (well, everyone but me due to a distant memory that included a lunging cat, hissing, blood, a spray bottle, scars, and cat-scratch disease), and the over-zealous host who very well could have been elated for reasons other than being the keeper of such an evening were cause enough for sensory overload and future poetry material.

This was all about Kim’s public reading of her poetry and my FIRST EVER attendance at a poetry reading of any sort. Upon entering there was a sign-in sheet. As an unseasoned poetry attendee I thought this was just a list of some sort to see how many people were there – turned out it was the sign up sheet to read. Jane in her artistic smarts restrained me from signing on the dotted line and forever saved me from standing in front of a room trying to read a blank piece of paper. Because – well, you see, I’ve only ever written one poem in my life and it was in the sixth grade and I certainly didn’t have it with me that night.

Kim was fabulous, I expanded my knowledge of the plights of middle-aged men (a disproportional amount of them seemed to be present which I am still wrapping my mind around), avoided a cat, and two hours later adventure two was complete. I’m really glad there are people that enjoy poetry in the world – just like I am glad there are rocket scientists. However, I will never be either. Thank you poets of Cambridge for letting me peek inside your world for a night.

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