The scary truth of too much poetry

The inevitable truth is here-

I know exactly how bookninja feels, at an event I attended the other night at least two people wrote something to read WHILE OTHER PEOPLE WERE READING. They were not participating in the experience, they were trying put some unfinished thoughts on paper so they could get up in front of everyone and share their mental drool. If I want raw, I'll eat my carrots uncooked.

That's not craft, that's not attention to words and the magic they hold. That's just masturbating in front of a microphone.

Yes, I host readings. Yes, I support my local poets. Jotting down your thoughts, journaling is not poetry. Writing while other people are reading is rude. Period.

(to be fair, I was not the host- who did an excellent job- and the event was an open mike, not a poetry reading. I'm still sick of it.)