Good Old Room 106

I remember when I had theology in this stuffy old classroom at the end of the small narrowing hall of Oshag. Today the windows were cracked, it was 7 pm and the sun was still beaming through the windows, representing the best South Bend has to offer as well as the end this way too long of a school year. The room was filled with eager listeners and the typical snack and drinks aka cookies and water.

I didn't know what to really expect, one of the first poetry readings I've attended. I wasn't sure what my interest level would be going in, tired from the day, I thought I might pass out in the back of the classroom, no one knowing or caring. A taller, slender looking younger man stood up off the ground, green plaid shirt with a pink undershirt, never saw that before, he always had a smile on his face which caused me as well as everyone else in the room to smile, a very demanding smile. Last week, my friend visited, he arrived to complain about the new tolls which didn't use people but only a machine that collects your money through a little slit, his money got stuck three times than his credit card got stuck, it was a thirty minute ordeal, good thing that wasn't me.
Ironically,the first thing Zachary Schomburg said as he stood up off the floor was exactly that about the tolls and how he was late due to this new toll system and how it broke down and an employees hand all of a sudden came out and asked for the money, this immediately had everyone laughing including myself, he questioned would this be the future of tolls, would people hands just come out of the machines to collect the money. Judging by his sense of humor, I could see myself vibing with this guy. A younger guy with humor like me and my friend. His poems joked about females, day to day activities that I could relate to and understand.
One poem I enjoyed that he read was from Scary, No Scary:

The old man
hunched over
at the front door
will be prepared
to give you a tour,
but first he’ll ask
scary, or no scary?

You should say
no scary.

As he finished his first couple poems, they were short, entertaining, and many times contained some sort of punch line. Rather than some other poems from other authors in which I wasn't sure if it was actually English or maybe if the author put random lines together to make a poem(no offense), it could just me by inability to understand all the different dynamics of poetry. His voice seemed perfect for these type of stories, a soft welcoming voice that would change tones in an urgent matter as the story did, occasionally changing his voice to fit the different characters speaking in the poems. He questioned the crowd, sad or funny stories? It was later in the day and everyone seemed like they needed a pick me up, so he went after the funny stories, keeping everyone with a constant smile as they listened attentively waiting for that next line. Another excerpt I really enjoy and felt was unique with the repetition of the flame:

“A woman-shaped flame. A whale-shaped flame. An ocean-shaped flame. The woman-shaped flame is inside the whale-shaped flame. The whale-shaped flame is inside the ocean-shaped flame...A breach-shaped flame...A Lincoln-shaped flame directly behind Lincoln. It is his soul on fire. It has already left his body...A Lincoln-shaped flame. A Lincoln-shaped flame”

Going in very skeptical, I came out of this with a whole new view on poem readings. Hopefully I can catch one in the near future, the bar has been set high.