I was combing through the listings on the New Jersey Poets and Poetry blog to see if there was anything doing in SJ anytime soon. Anything. Even if it means getting lost on my way to Hippie Fruit Farm out in the wilds.
What did I find?
A reading for Biker Poetry.
As interesting as this looks-- and believe it or not, I do have a poem I could read there, if only it were open mic-- I am going to have to say my usual "WHA WHA WHAAAAAT?" to that, because I had no idea that Bridgeton was a place where Bikers like to hang and rev their engines and wax eloquent about the road.
Man, I bet that reading would be fabulous!
Too bad I can't go.
And I would include my "Sturgis" poem here, but I have a rule about publishing poetry on Teh Interwebs, as in, I don't do it. Too paranoid.
But, hey, cheers to the Bikers of Bridgeton, NJ. May Rte. 47 always be well-paved and humble.
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