Visit to a black gaybar (2 of 3): Poetry night.

This announcer got up for poetry night, and she talked quite a bit, and she had people raise their hands if they were there for the 1st time, and she said they did a lot of stuff 1st before anyone signed up to recite, and she said they did a poetry-writing exercise otherwise known as an icebreaker, and to get a piece of paper and a pen when someone came around, and this older (black) man came around, and me and my friend took one.

"The way this works," the announcer said, "is that you will have 5 words, and you have to make a poem, and the words will be called out by the audience  This is creative, there is no judging here, and you may recite it if you want.  Now, in honor of the weather - " - it was extremely hot out - " - I will select the first word, 'HOT', now do we have other words?", and she took "HUMID".

At that, someone called out, "'MOIST'!" and another person, "'WET!", and she was like, "Okay, 'MOIST' and 'WET' are the same thing, so let's do 'WET'."

Then there was a lull, and she was like "Okay, and I will propose, 'BATTERIES'," and then when someone called out 'VIBRATOR', she was like, "Okay, 'VIBRATOR', or any form of the word, 'VIBRATE' or 'VIBRATION' or what have you."


Then, she was like, "And if any of these words might make you uncomfortable, remember, you can always leave out one word of your choice, and instead use a 6th, alternate word, 'PUSSY'."

At that, the women broke out in cheers and whistles and claps.

"And if you are thinking," she continued, "Did she just say the word" - and at that she gestured to nearby cocktail table -

"PUSSY!", the women there shouted out -

"Or did she say something else that just sounded like" -

"PUSSY!", the women there shouted out -

"But is not actually the word" -

"PUSSY!", the women there shouted out -

 "But maybe just sounds like" -

"PUSSY!" -

"I want to tell you, I did in fact say the word" -

"PUSSY!", the women at the cocktail table shouted out -

"Because" - and she gestured to the table -

"PUSSY!" -

"Is a beautiful thing, let me say again" -

 "PUSSY!" -
 
"Is a beautiful thing, and is nothing to be ashamed of."

At that, everyone in the place whooped and clapped.

"And remember, please do not use any derogatory terms in your poems."

 Then, they played 2 songs, and newcomers were badgered by people around them to write poems, and a few of the 20+ regulars there wrote poems too.

After the songs were over, they reminded everyone to clap for every poem, and if it was a good revolutionary poem, to raise a right fist in approval, and if it was a good pussy poem, to raise a left fist in approval, and if it was a revolutionary pussy poem, to raise both fists in the air at the same time.

Then, people read theirs poems.

Some bashful (black) woman got up, and then another (black) woman did, and then it was my turn, so I got up behind the mike on the little stage and recited -

coppertop batteries remind me

of me

and my red hair.

this weather is humid,

and hot,

but I could be hotter 

if I was a woman

(not just in heart)

with a gorgeous red thatch

covering

my wet steamy pussy.

At that, the women went nuts, and many raised both fists in the air.

In hindsight, I should have added in a bit about a tight stomach and playful, cuppable breasts, but I guess it did well enough as-is.

"That will be hard to beat," my one (British) friend said, and then he went up to the mike.

His poem, which was written before we realized the exercise was mostly about getting newcomers to open up by writing and reciting pussy poems in front of a large group of lesbians, had a line in it about how the weather was too hot and the last thing on his mind was pussy.

He got polite applause, and then the announcer was like, "Very true, very true, pussy is always the last thing on my mind.  I go to bed at night, and what am I thinking about?  Pussy!  It is always the last thing on my mind, and I know I am not alone in this."

After the icebreaker - the regulars didn't read any poems, and it seemed like not many wrote them - they had some announcements, including how they would have their annual festival day for people who couldn't go out of town for the Michigan Womyn's Festival.

"Remember," the announcer was like, "We will provide chicken, because you know we love chicken, but you bring the fixings and whatever you want, just no alcohol, that you buy here."

They also said they would be begin selling raffle tickets for their annual fall raffle, with proceeds going to a good cause.

"[name that could be male or female] here," they said, pointing to the old man who had handed out pens and paper for the pussy poems, "Has some women in a nursing home in [name of a south suburb], and we make sure they're taken care of.  Hell, they think he's a man and just let him in, and he's got two women in there, and we need to make sure he has something to bring 'em!"

At that, everyone whooped and applauded, and someone playfully punched the old man, who turns out was a really butch woman, in the shoulder.

Then, some people read poems, most of which had to do with "arched backs" and "vaginal walls" and stuff like that.