Students read 'guerilla' poetry at Wal-mart

Poetry is found within town on local bookstore shelves and poets are often spotted stumbling across Kirkwood Avenue spewing words that otherwise possess no meaning. Frustrated with their perceived community lack of poetry appreciation, a local group decided to take its prose to the city streets. \nDrunk and Unpublished, "an unofficial poetry organization," conducted their second session of guerilla poetry Monday night. Their target audience: Wal-Mart patrons. \nBloomington poet Ian U. Girdley, co-founder of Drunk and Unpublished, said the guerilla poetry troop performed its first uninvited poetry reading in College Mall located on the city's eastside a few weeks ago. He said few Hoosiers were grazing through the mall as the show opened at 6 p.m. on an otherwise random Wednesday.\n"It is our goal to get poetry out to the people who usually don't hear it read -- those who usually aren't around it," Girdley said. "It's fun and we hope to shock people and make them think."\nBloomington poet Dennis Ray Powell Jr., co-founder of Drunk and Unpublished, said good poetry topples boundaries and shakes people out of their socialized stupor. He said his poetry troop is recruiting community poets who are unpublished and willing to share their thoughts, feelings and dreams with their Hoosier neighbors.\n"I don't know if I'm a good poet. Even when people tell you are good, you still don't really believe it," Powell said. "It's like kissing -- a person will tell you you're a good kisser while you're kissing them but there is never any way to tell."\nTen minutes after the scheduled 6 p.m. guerilla poetry reading rendezvous at 6 p.m. Monday at Wal-Mart, Girdley and Powell were the only two local poets who braved the blistering 115 degree heat index air. Both poets arrived via a Bloomington Transit bus.\nUpon entering the mega-superstore, Girdley and Powell gathered next to the retailer's sliding exit doors, about three hops across from Wal-Mart security personnel. Powell wedged himself between two patrons after standing on a bench next to the 50 cent toy machines, and Girdley recited two poems before turning the improv open mic to his Hoosier comrade. \nThe Wal-Mart security guard sipped Dixie cup shots of water as the Drunk and Unpublished duo spat word bombs like sex, soda pop, shiny rocks, sweet curses and bikini bottoms. Few patrons skipped a beat as they paraded through the manual one-way exit door with piles of plastic from toe to frown.\n"Can I help you guys with something," a Wal-Mart manager said as he waved his hand toward an audience member's camera. "No pictures in here ... Are you guys going to buy something?"\n"We are reading poetry to each other," Girdley said. "Have you received any complaints?"\n"Yes, from at least one person. You guys need to keep it down," the manager said.\nDeciding to take the path of least resistance, Girdley and Powell decided to exit the premises and abort the guerilla poetry reading for a better time and place on an a different day. \nBloomington resident and Wal-Mart patron Parul Kaushik said she listened to a couple of the poems while she sat on the bench Powell was standing upon. She said she witnessed many poetry readings while she lived in India, although she said they were never "random."\n"One of the poems I heard was something about a romantic relationship between a boy and a girl," she said. "Poetry makes me realize how life is beautiful. Poets, they don't see things as they are in the literal sense. They give their own perspective, new meaning to things we wouldn't be able to see otherwise. "\nGirdley said he would have preferred to read more poems but he didn't want "to push it" because the Wal-Mart manager asked them to keep it quiet. He murmured something about needing a cold drink on a hot day because all guerilla poetry readings are conducted in a peaceful and sober manner under strict sober conditions.\nPowell said the Wal-Mart door greeter seemed to enjoy their prose. \n"Ian likes to keep it peaceful and that's cool, but I think we need to push it further," Powell said. "The good thing now is we can go to Kirkwood Avenue and read poetry on the street. Kirkwood is where a poet goes when you get kicked out of other places"