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How horrible was my first Poetry Cafe experience? Oh, quite. I havnt done any performance like that for a long, logn time, and as it finally got to me (being the last person out of 29 people didnt really help), I finally got up, read what I had brought and suddenly thought. My god. That, was utter crap. All these other people...performing. I will tell you, the quality was extremely high - higher than my hastily printed out bullshit from two years ago that I read. The majority of them were funny. My stuff, isnt funny. My stuff, is sometimes hardly understandable. So as I got up there, I suddenly found something happening that hadnt happened to me for many, many years. My hands were shaking, and I was sweating profusely. Fuck this, I thought, I should of just watched. What the hell am I doing here - I have no right to be here - I, am no WAY near as good as any of these people. So I read it out, and realised when I'd finished that yes, it was crap, and yes, I was nowhere near as good as anyone else that night, and yes, I wasnt funny (its hard when you follow on from 29 other people, the majority of who are dripping wit, and you talk about politics and strangeness). So it was a good lesson. I now wonder if I will ever do it again, I think, maybe, that my stuff is best never seen or heard - or maybe its jsut the delectible crush of ego. Perhaps I should of prepared more - I didnt realise it would be quite so formal really. Either way, I have no idea if I should ever go back again, or give up completely on doing public readings. Fletch.