Evidence of Poetry

    As you may have heard, Encore Literary Magazine hosted its first live event earlier this month, at the cavernous CFC on rue St. Hubert. Many friends and curiosity seekers were treated to a night of poetry, drinks, music and the best kind of company — the kind that hates to go home. Memories were dim the morning after… Fast food may or may not have been consumed at two in the morning; a legend of karaoke may or may not have joined the band for a song; a barefoot street race may or may not have taken place on rue St. Hubert (though if it did take place, this further demonstrates the financial plight of poets, for what other artist is reduced to illegal foot racing at night?); CFC may or may not ever want to see us again. [Ed. note: Confirmed — they want us back.]

     So, given these lurking uncertainties, diligent work had to be done to piece things together and, yes, a few things are now certain: the band got paid; the poets did not; few of us felt stellar on Tuesday morning. But this was not a poetry reading to suffer with held breath and flee from at the first opportunity. People listened, but they also laughed, gasped, cringed, drank immoderately and, most importantly, they lingered and let poetry linger too. This place, on this night, had too much energy to abandon. Sure, ideally it would have been a Friday… but that’s not where poetry is right now; poetry’s on Mondays… and if August 8th is any indication, Monday can be one hell of a night.

— Kasper Hartman