One fine Monday evening

One fine Monday evening, I happened to drop in at the ol’ KGB Bar on 4^th street for some sick Monday night poetry. The poets that night happened to be two fine, well-groomed gentlemen, Louis Jenkins and Glyn Maxwell. Unfortunately, I had not paid sufficient attention to Louis’ readings because I had the fortunate opportunity to talk to a handsome young lady named Jeannette. However, I was fully attentive when Glyn Maxwell approached the stage, and to my excitement, he quenched my desire for artistic fulfillment for the night. Maxwell’s voice is low and sounds like an old church. It also reminds me of the voice of Bane from the latest addition to the Batman franchise. The poem that I recall most clearly out of his selection was titled “The Boys at Twilight,” which was breathtakingly captivating. To my memory, the most enjoyable part of the poem and his recitation was his constancy. I love when poems are under the control of a set number of syllables per line, set number of lines per stanza, and perhaps a rhyme scheme, but still have so much going on in between the lines. I remember sitting there and being completely under the control of his voice and the words forced from his mouth. I actually left right after that poem because I wanted to retain that spiritual high. I’m looking up the poem now, and it’s just as good as I remembered it to be.