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The first few years of the Highway Poets were a hay day. Poetry readings, Bike events, New Members such as Uncle T, Brother Lizzard, Lady Pat, Martin Jack, prospects such as Bobby Triumph ... Little Wolf, True friends such as Jack Powers of Stone Soup aka The Saint Francis of Poetry, Mary-Susan Williams Mignault, Editor and Publisher of Roadhouse Press ... Bill Mac Millan of the Worcester arts Group. In those early years, we would end up with a dozen or so bikes outside our readings. It seemed everyone was writing for someone then. Sky was writing for Biker Life Style, I believe, Myself, The Motorcyclists' Post, Uncle T, everywhere, Lady Pat, her college paper, The Pennon, Mosha was the editor of Spare Change, Lizzard had a band ... Martin Jack was The' Poet for Harley-Davidson. We were appearing on college campuses, I was at Harvard, Sky was at Wright, Lady Pat was at North Shore ... Mary-Susan was just finishing Merrimac. We were features in Magazines and News Papers, Spare Change, Writers' Exchange, Boston Herald, Boston Globe, and numerous locals. Sky had a radio show on the Cape, I had a Tv show on the North Shore ... Martin Jack did a few promos and Documentary spots with Harley-Davison. We had a day in the Sun! |
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In the Summer of 2003, there were rumbles that the club was being disbanded. There were even new patches that were being designed and drawn. The days of the Highway Poets had ended? At that time, I was in retirement, recently recovered from open heart surgery, freshly appointed the Connecticut Bikeweek Poet Laureate and ready to make a new move. I was in regular contact with Brother Lizzard and Gypsypashn, and I was asked if I might want to join the new club and help it get off the ground. Somehow, it all didn't sit right and I decided what I would do is book a few gigs for myself and a few gigs for The Highway Poets. One of the calls I made was to Bill Mac Millan of the Java Hut in Worcester, Mass. to see if I could get us readings there. I got the club one and I got myself one. When my gig came down, it was a warm September weekend ... I ran tandom with Mary-Susan, She in her car, I on my bike. The first night we stayed up in Laconia by Weirs Beach. The second day we headed down toward Worcester and stayed just outside of town. The reading went excellent, as all Bill Mac Millan readings do, a standing ovation? On the way back the next day from the reading, I stopped off at a small Harley-Davidson Type motorcycle shop along side the road. I never know what fate will do next, just what coin of the realm she will hand me, because while in this small shop I picked up a couple copies of the Connecticut Cruise News Newspaper and when I tossed them into my Tee-Bag, I didn't know just what a large part of my life and the history of the Highway Poets they would play. The next month when the highway poets gig came around, I showed up as a back up. The only ones from the club that made it were Sky and Lace. Sky did an excellent reading that night and after the reading, Sky and I talked, and when the dust settled, I was out of retirement. And once again, the Poetry Train was moving and fast! |
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