she's a threadhead


This a poem that I wrote about/for Wednesday’s Sophisticated Boom Boom. The Sophisticated Boom Boom is Toronto’s only late night rock n’ roll poetry reading that takes place every 2nd Wednesday of the month at the Ossington, 61 Ossington Ave.

Reading a poem is a challenging thing,
Do I want it to laugh? Do I want it to sing?
Should I be looking in beds for lines that are horny?
Or looking in fields for rhymes too corny?

And I’m searching for something that makes me feel right,
Word patterns that come in the pits of the night.
Or sentences which surface, hot in the shower,
and leave me in wonder after over an hour.

Forget about reading one of my own,
I’ll just share some Plath off of my phone.
But she’s so well known for her head in the oven,
I doubt the Boom Boom would be up for some Ariel lovin’.

I’ll pick out a sonnet by one of the Greats,
e.e. cummings, bp Nichol or maybe some Yeats?
Are these too obvious? I just don’t know,
fuck this. I’m done. I’ll stick with some Poe.

BUT what will they think with their beer glasses on?
Do I need to snap my fingers and break into song?
Should I lower my voice, or make it quite loud?
Will I feel better with my back to the crowd?

And if they get up to go for a drink
is it because they think that I stink?
Am I talking too fast as I mumble and blink?

So I’ll take a deep breath and read without fear,
and when it’s all over you can buy me a beer.

by E.A. Douglas

Have a great weekend!


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