THE 'AFTER THE READING' SERIES
RD Reads at the Long Beach Poetry Festival - Opening Night 3/25/05
After The Reading 8
“Have you had plastic surgery?”
The young lady asks me.
Granted it’s been three or four years
Since she last saw me, but…
Here I thought I looked like
Forty miles of bad road
Only to find that I’m lookin’
Plastic surgeon good.
RD Armstrong
After the Reading 7
The round woman reads about
Hot, one-night-stand sex
With poets
The sexy woman with
Impossibly tight everything
Read about a childhood rape
Two poets sing songs with great heart
Which excuses them being off key
And the hosts are shocked
At the quality of the poetry
From the grizzled public defender
And the poet from San Pedro
(Yeah I live in a PO Box)
The host lady (a self-confessed mic whore)
Actually says there's
Little difference
Between me and her
Except she has tits
And I don’t
And while her tits are nice
There was something else
Between us (that might have
Looked nice sandwiched
Between her tits) but
I didn’t get a chance to
Get her number or the chubby
Poet who liked one night stands
With metaphorical poets
RD Armstrong
After the Reading 6
A big red-faced
Bullet-headed
Mutherfucker
Jumped in my
Face at Barnes
& Noble the
Other night
After the opening
Of the Long
Beach Poetry
Festival
Seems he didn’t
Like me chewing
Gum during my
Reading
Now I admit
I didn’t know
It was bad form
But this guy was
Insulted to the
Nth degree
He even punched
Me to demonstrate
How pissed off I’d
Made him
I chew gum to
Keep from getting
Dry mouth when
I speak but how
Would bullet-head
Know that – it’s
A medical condition
For christsakes
(Do I need to get
A bracelet or
Something?)
RD Armstrong
After the Reading 4
A hard
Cold
Wind
Was
Spraying
Rain
Drops
Side
Ways
Like
Sun
Dance
With a
Thompson
Sub-Machine
Gun
Swinging
Wide on
To Sunset
Blvd
Riding
On the
Running
Board
Of the
Arctic
Ex
Press
RD Armstrong
After the Reading 3
I recently attended
A reading in Ventura County
For the twenty-second
Anniversary of ArtLife
I was invited to read
Along with numerous
Other poets of local fame
I noticed the guys my
Age were reading poems
About the pleasures love
And of family life
I read a nature poem
At times like these
I am reminded
(Particularly around this
Time of year) of the
Absence of home and hearth
Of kith and kin
The warmth of fellowship
Not everyone is so blessed
There was a time
When I knew these blessings
But that time is all but forgotten
Now I’m grateful for the chance to
Warm my hands at the fire
Even if it isn’t in my true home
Or with my true family
One learns to adapt
If one wants to survive
RD Armstrong
After the Reading 2
“Poets and Mystics are destined to live sad, lonely lives.” -- John Harris
The man who thinks he is a poet
Approaches me as I come down the stairs
After the best reading I’ve been to in years
He greets me with those sad, pleading eyes
That say I know you’ll make my day
But I will disappoint him like so many before
“Did you read my chapbook?”
“Yes, I did, but I’m sorry, nothing in it
Really grabbed me.” I said, trying to be polite.
“What? Nothing? I can’t believe that,
Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He looks at me as if I’ve just told him
The test results don’t look good, as
If I’ve just said you’ve got weeks to live.
“Well, wait, what about this one, surely you liked this one?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“I can’t believe this…you didn’t like this one either?”
“NO.”
If it was possible for eyes to start spinning in opposite directions
I know his eyes would be doing that now.
The test results were getting worse and worse with each passing moment.
“Look,” I finally said in exasperation, “I’m not the only game in town
Why don’t you try some other mags…I’m sure someone will take you’re work.”
“Yeah, right. I can’t believe you turned me down.”
“LOOK,” I said, losing my patience, “It’s a matter of personal taste. If you
Don’t like it, why don’t you start your own fucking magazine?”
“Maybe I just might.”
But he won’t do it.
Guys like him never do.
They prefer to bitch about all the editors who have betrayed “freedom of speech” by
Not publishing guys like him.
Guys like me, know a few things about guys like him.
RD Armstrong
AFTER THE READING 1
the big girl
whom I’ve known for
for many years
the one with the
crazy light in her eyes
which you can only
see after she’s already
started to slip into it
like a kid on a sugar high
spinning farther and farther
out of control with each giggle
the big girl
who refuses to
relent or grow up
who has no inhibitions
who grabs or touches
inappropriately
who, in short,
embarrasses the hell
out of me at every
opportunity
the big girl
informs me that
she just inherited
the whole shebang:
property, cars and the
good old do-re-mi-
buy-you-whatever-you-want-
anytime-day-or-night-
kind-of-lovin’
and how you-missed-your-chance-
poetry-boy-now-you-can-
kiss-my-sweet-ass-goodbye
oh, and give mama a kiss
as she whisks off in her late-model
something leaving me blinking
in this white light afternoon
thinking about chance, timing
and the small miracle of my
sudden amnesty
RD Armstrong
Raindog reads at WorldFest 2005
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