image of me at the BSharp.
“If you’re going to do something, strive to do it
better than anyone else. If you’re going to half-
ass it, why bother?”--Ashly Lorenzana.
I am prowling Opera Alley, loving its cobblestones,
skipping under its gaslights. The buildings are all
painted bright primary colors, like a stroll in Little
Havana--pink, umber, red, yellow, turquoise and
tangerine. I enjoy the murals & wall art that are
splashed between windows & doors, the styles
being Asian, African & urban graffiti. There is a
light rain falling. I approach the old Tacoma
Tribune office, which has been turned into the
BSharp Coffee House, an esoteric space for
blues, jazz, punk rock & literary events, like the
Poetry Slam that I’m attending tonight. My two
poems are in a manila folder under my jacket.
I see there are a few people already gathered
in the dim lights. I’m feeling that familiar rush
of adrenalin as I prepare to perform.
I’m called Tacoma’s
last beat poet, brightening myheart, conjuring smile.
Posted over at dVerse PoetsPub Haibun