Well, Zoom has allowed me to hear a number of writers who I probably would not have seen reading together at a traditional bookstore, academic auditorium or arts venue reading. Five famous poets! All together on one night. And you get a vicarious, voyeuristic glimpse into their living quarters.
Still, I'm longing for the real thing. One or a handful of poets in the same place at the same time, their voices or the voices of people reading their work unamplified and undistorted by electronics and technology. How about a reading sitting around a fire pit in a public garden in New York City's East Village (social distancing style, of course). Ah, those were the days.
Still, I appreciate the online alternative. The Quarantine Reading series organized by Aurielle Marie (and featuring headliners Phillip B. Williams and Justin Phillip Reed on successive nights) was perhaps my favorite Zoom reading room lately. And I'm grateful. Two nights of wonderful poetry by some of today's most vital voices -- who could ask for anything more?
But I'm longing for the olden days, as they say. I was walking through Boom Island Park in Minneapolis a little over a week ago, before the city fell into grief and outrage, and I ran across a man sitting on a park bench playing the saxophone. I told him what a relief it was to hear live music (he demurred, insisting that what he was doing was practicing, not playing music) but to me it was music. Coming from a real musician with a real instrument within my hearing distance. Those were the days.
So, I'm looking forward to hearing all the poets I've been listening to read again soon -- hopefully as a member of a live audience.
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