Dear Gentle Reader,
I cannot be sure of what I heard tonight at the Poetry Slam in the J.V. Brown library--some may call me mad--but I if I did not report my findings I would feel selfish, like I'd been privy to a great secret of the world and had kept it all to myself. There is, and the reliability of my senses depends on it, for those who yearn for more than America's Next Top Model, for those who are unsatisfied with talking heads on television, for those who detect the slight value of pop lyrics, and for those who seek a community of refined minds, a great poetry scene in Williamsport.
Let me tell you of Larry Bassett, a man whose funny bone extends through his entire skeleton and whose personality flares from every pore, setting any room ablaze with life, life, boundless, quirky, vibrant life. http://lawrencebassett.com/
Let me tell you of Tara Holdren, a woman whose words rush and roar like a rollercoaster but stick and hold like a web. She leaps from poetic to frank and back so quickly you might mistake one for the other.
Let me tell you of Fiona Siobhan Powell, a woman whose tales, stocked with the historical depth of Celtic lore, lull you into warm comfort as they slowly choke your heart or welcome you into nature as if you've just been born again. http://www.fionasfable.com/
I feel as if living has just been advanced to the next level, upgraded to a new plane, endowed with another layer, and thoroughly seeded. For all those who missed out, I can only hope that this meeting of souls and syllables occurs again in the near future.
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