Word was getting around of a poetry slam happening at the SS Cafe and Bistro, and never having been to one curiosity drove me to check out the place, once again.
I entered the SS Cafe and Bistro expecting a cover charge, but to my surprise I was casually waved in by a bloke puffing on a cigar, deep into a book, The Saviours of God: Spiritual Exercises, by Nicos Kazantzikas, this huge dog, maybe Cerberus, sitting at his feet giving me a searchimg stare.
I observed an enthusiastic crowd seated at tables surrounding a small stage, shouting encouragement to a red headed woman slamming poetry, and I’m sure I saw the ghost of Charles Bukowski hovering overhead, dragging on a cigarette , hoisting a beer, grinning from ear to ear.
Thinking this might be my only opportunity to explore the place and using the poetry slam as a distraction, I made my way past the managers office into the dark corridor beyond.
I stepped hesitantly into the corridor, my head spinning with the onset of claustrophobia as the walls pressed close on each side, it was unnaturally quiet, no sound intruding from the poetry slam, the air humid and electric as if announcing a pending storm.
Was that a soft footstep up ahead, I hesitated, should I go further or return, and my mind was made up as the lights flickered and then extinguished leaving me in total darkness, so I made a sensible withdrawal to the safe, comforting haven of the poetry slam, contrasting the sensory overload of happy vibes to the sensory deprivation of that dark corridor.
Lensdiary 