Scene or Seen: The Quick List of LA Lit Venues

 

Ahhh… the Los Angeles poetry scene… what can’t I say about it? What is there left to say? Where do I start?

 

A poet/editor/publisher friend of mine calls it the “Seen.” L.A. is an industry town where not only is it an unspoken crime to look as well as act “Midwestern,” but also admit one incarnated in such a desolate place as Simi Valley.  I count it a blessing that such a lovable and discordant community as the L.A. poetry scene exists.

 

I am, in my humble opinion, too young to be considered a doyenne of the poetry scene. However, six years of writing, performing, hosting readings, publishing and networking with others of my kind has given me a sense of how important it is to maintain and foster the written word in L.A. at the performance level.

 

Readings in Los Angeles rise and fall and, occasionaly, resurrect (though not without the help of the occasional exorcist). I will always remember my first year (2002), as a young and fumbling poet usually does and with great affection. I cut my literary teeth on the Friday Night Reading at the Midnight Special Bookstore—a reading that, at the time, was hosted by the very sexy and dynamic Rev. Dave Wheeler. In spite of its draconian rules (five minute time limit, random number drawing, no more than 25 spots, and all attendees had to STAY for the entire reading or you were blacklisted forever), The Midnight Special Reading was a fertile ground for many others, like me, who needed to work out the kinks in our poetic style and delivery.

  

On any given night, one could hear poets like Scott Kaestner, Peggy Dobreer,Roni Z, E. Amato, and whoever might walk in off the street—sometimes from as far away as Bulgaria or Nebraska—and take their turn at the mic. The energy intesified as each poet stepped up the podium and pitted herself and her words against the infamous egg timer— attempting, in those five minutes, to convince an audience of her peers that how she poetically viewed the world was as special and unique as anyone else. The quality of the poetry varied (what can you expect from an open mic), but the camaraderie that blossomed every Friday night from this shared experience was genuine.

 

Alas, all good things MUST come to an end, etc., etc., etc. The reading lasted for a decade and a half before the retail gods of Santa Monica decided to raise the rent and replace the bookstore with something considered MORE essential—a Nike shoe store.

 

Despite the deaths of many poetry venues around Los Angeles, there are a handful of readings at which a poet might practice and hone her craft: these five readings, at this time, not only have staying power, but also afford different, advantagious opportunities for the emerging or established poet working in the name of our nefarious art.

 

1) Tuesday Night Open Mic Reading at the Coffee Cartel. 8 pm

 

I LOVE this reading. It’s near the beach; it’s hosted by three of my favorite poets: Larry Colker, Jim Doane and Stephany Prodromides; it’s situated near a very cool pub; it sports huge comfy couches as well as the same GIANT goldfish in the same icky tank since 2003; and the poetry features are worth traveling the distance to listen to (yes, I have a feature there on May 13, but that’s beside the point).

 

I didn’t start out being anamored of this reading. Jim used to tease me something awful, which is okay, ‘cause I learned to give the “love” back in equal measure, and I wasn’t as hip and cool as I am now—okay, laugh with me.

 

Jim, Larry and Stephany are hosts that strike the right balance of fun and quality. The open mic rules are simple: two poems or four minutes, and, if all poets play nice, there is often a lightning round at the end of the evening. Poets like Brendan Constantine, Rachel Kann, Sherman Pearl, Sarah Maclay,Raindog, Buddy Wakefield, Michael C Ford, Steve Goldman, and tons more have stood at the mic (near the other icky fish tank) and blessed the weekly audience with 20 minutes worth of pain and bliss. The open mic portion is run with an eye toward fairplay—equal time for all, no matter what your poetic station.