The Temple Bookstore hosted the third Walla Walla Poetry Party in mid-April to an enthusiastic and boisterous crowd. The Saturday night event offered readings by authors from all over the country, as far away as Lansing, Michigan and as local as Walla Walla. The evening was formatted with several readers allowed 10 minutes each, followed by the featured poets who each received 20 minutes.
For the third and final night of of the poetry party, founder and veritable poetry aficionado, Charles Potts, took over MC-ing duties. The event seemed almost an excuse for Potts to listen to his dear friends recite poetry, as well as entertain the audience. Almost every poet praised Potts’ service and dedication to the promotion of poetry.
The first poet of the evening, Steve Potter, began with a trio of journal poems. The most haunting piece was the second journal poem, which told the story of a friend’s untimely death. Potter’s voice lingered on the words as he recited, “He skipped out of the window frame / he skipped out of our view / then we heard the shot.”
His final piece was a somber dedication to September 11th, entitled “Beautiful World in Ruins.” Potter’s sestina cleverly played with the word “nothing.” The last stanza of the sestina was particularly moving: “Nothing tea brewing / Nothing spices on the ruined ground / Nothing does nothing in time / Nothing surrounds nothing / Nothing but silence.”
Paul Nelson, from Auburn, Washington, gave impassioned readings of his poems “Another Bird Song,” and “Eclipse, A Pistol” among others. Nelson’s style was enchanting, as he recited some lines in an almost-slam style. Favorite lines from his set included “the rain / the rain / elusive and threatening / eclipse sending this message to you / because everyone fears them” as he recited a poem about an altercation with his wife. According to Nelson, the eclipse “looks more like a man on fire.”
Nelson is writing an epic poem called “A Time Before Slaughter,” and he read some excerpts from it. His last poem, about the wars in the United States, held the audience captive as he murmured, “Man’s life is like the morning dew / In charred buses two lovers in last embrace / The only thing wrong with love poems is that the love doesn’t last.”
Amy Rootvik, who, the program says, “teaches Women’s Studies and English at Walla Walla Community College when she’s not too busy bartending,” gave a spirited and hilarious reading, with poems about her underwear and a hair dye gone bad.
Next up was Texan Travis Catsull who gave a slower reading of the “poem that couldn’t exist.” Catsull was one of the few poets who didn’t seem hurried at all or worried about fitting the time limit. He used his ten minutes beautifully, and recited, “what tongue tangled / words are invisible / but evening is easy / the rain surrounds us.”
Catsull’s last poem bared it all as he took the crowd back to his incarceration in Austin, Texas. Catsull’s desire for a glimpse of the moonlight in his jail cell culminated in a wonderful, “counting our bodies / counting our breath / and I am dreaming of contraband... / to blow out the windows and let the moon in this fucking place.”
The first of the longer readings began with klipschutz. klipschutz gave the first reading at the grand opening of the Temple Bookstore in 2002. klipschutz’s performances were well-received. His most entertaining piece was one dedicated to his former mentor who passed away, Ed Smith. The poem, called “Mr. Smith Goes to Walla Walla,” ended with the words: “a valentine for dreamers everywhere / no actor, ed, could play you but yourself.”
Amber Andersen’s review continued on the next page...
