After a long day full of work and confusion, I decided that it would be a good idea to go to the poetry reading at eight PM. I got all of my homework done and ate dinner also. It was now about seven twenty and I heard a knock at my front door. It was my RA; he was just reminding me that he was going to leave in a few minutes. Soon Jeff, another girl and I headed to the place where the reading was taking place. When we got there, all the seats in the back were full. This ended the back up plan, which consist of leaving out if the poet was very bad. We soon found three seats in the middle of the auditorium. The electrical people were all over the stage trying to get the microphone to work. After about twenty minutes of watching people trying to fix the microphone, I was very convinced that I was not going to like this night. Mr. Andrews Hudgins reminded me of the stereotypical unibomber, who had no microphone and recited poems such as the “Pissy Christ”; those are just a couple of reasons why I really disliked this poet and his poetry.The poet looked a lot like someone who would be in the paper listed as the unibomber. He was a middle-aged balding man who looked a lot like a killer. Mr. Hudgins spoke with a tone of a crazy man, but the main problem was his type of poetry. When he started to read his poems, I was completely disappointed in his choice of topics. The type of poems that he read reinforced how I felt about his image at first. As the program progressed Mr. Hudgins appeared to be crazier than I thought in the beginning.Aside from his scary appearance, Mr. Hudgins was practically yelling the entire time because he had no microphone. When we walked in and sat down, there were people walking all on stage and in the sound room. At first no one knew why the electricians were walking around, and I really could care less why the people were walking around. All I cared about at that time was hearing some poet...
