On the way home from work Thursday, (e:Paul) and I went to Cafeology for a coffee.

Something was strange, because they were open for two more hours, but were cleaning up - even though the shop was full of people.

It turned out it was a Pure Ink poetry slam

The surprise art made me feel awkward. I couldn't listen to the first two poems because I was trying not to laugh - by thinking about programming design patterns. I wasn't trying to be an asshole but it was so unexpected I didn't know how to react.

After a few people went up, I calmed down and was able to listen. There was a girl who had a poem about remembering everything men say to her, a poem about Cat in the Hat, and one about the Sunday bike ride. Some just sounded like babbling, and some were actually pretty good. To me, reading poetry seems less about the content than the delivery.

(e:paul) thought about reading his old (e:poetry) but didn't go up. I wish he did.

it made me think I would have no idea how to write a poem. Maybe I could read a program. But then I thought of how I can make up songs about butts, (e:paul) and (e:terry), dogs all the time and I don't even realize it. Maybe I should have recited one of them - could I be a poet and not know it?