Taking a Reading on a City of Poets : Culture: There are more than 75 venues where one can sit back and listen to established writers or survey the work of an unknown.

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold --William Carlos Williams

In a city where fast cars and palm trees seem to take precedence over literary activities, it’s surprising that the poetry scene in Los Angeles has as large a voice as it does.

In one weekend, it’s possible to go to about 77 different coffeehouses, bookstores and restaurants to take part in or listen to original material. Poets ranging from well-known published scribes--such as Allen Ginsberg, Phoebe McAdams or Macdonald Carey--to relative unknowns all have a forum.

There seems to be a poetry group for everyone. There’s one for Asian-American women and Latin Americans. There are Lesbian Writers and Men of Stand Up Poetry. And farther south, there are the Laguna Poets and Hermosa Beach Friends of the Arts.

They meet in Simi and in Fullerton. There are the so-called “yuppie readings” at the Espresso Bar in Pasadena and Chatterton’s Books in the Los Feliz area, and at Cafe Largo in the Fairfax area, where dinner is necessary if you want to get a decent table. Sometimes the readings there are by fairly well-known names, such as actors Jeff Conaway and Katey Sagal.

There even are readings in such establishments as Mama’s Pajamas, a thrift shop in West Los Angeles, the pic’me-up cafe on La Brea Avenue and Author Author, A Bookstore in Redondo Beach.

Rosa Kaplan has her audience in tears when she reads her traumatic experience about the Holocaust, family separation and the new life she started in Czechoslovakia after the war.

When she’s not writing/reading, she’s a mental health training specialist for Los Angeles County. At Sherman Oaks’ Bread and Roses Bookstore, she reads from “Sarah’s Daughters Sing: A Sampler of Poems by Jewish Women.”

“With the exception of my left hand, I am kind of a bionic woman,” Kaplan reads. She tells of various surgeries and medication for rheumatoid arthritis.

Kaplan started writing in high school, but stopped after she graduated from Brooklyn College. Thirty or so years passed, and 11 years ago she started writing professionally.

On the same Sunday afternoon, a group reads from its newest works at the Iguana Cafe in North Hollywood. In a ‘60s living-room-type atmosphere, with in-house kittens and a coffee mill, aspiring poets attired in jeans and sweats open up.

“This has been real tough to talk about,” says a red-haired comedian who was abused by her brother as a child. She reads her poem about incest to a supportive group that includes an attorney, a retired social worker, a behavioral trainer for autistic adults, an escrow officer and a graduate student specializing in speech communications.

Iguana is around the corner from the Iliad Bookstore, another poet’s haven, and down the street from the Lankershim Cultural Center, where every Friday it’s home to the Toltec Revue--complete with featured speaker and open readings.

“It’s impossible to catch every reading, but you do what you can,” says Helen Rose Fricher, a nurse’s aide.

If you can’t physically make it to the poetry reading, at least one organization makes house calls. The Topanga Poets recently visited the Motion Picture Health and Welfare Home, where they read to a group of 20 residents.

“When you’re a poet, you’re family,” says Chuck Wadell Jr., a real estate broker who formed the group a year ago. “I wanted to get some poets together in the area where I lived. I also wanted to give something back to the community.”

Although Wadell has moved to the West Valley, he has kept the group of 12 together. The fiftysomething man describes his recent outing with the senior citizens at the Health and Welfare Home. “There were all degrees of cognizance in the audience. One man slept while others were very sharp. Actually, it was a cut above the type of people we usually get. These folks have been involved in the entertainment industry and have a certain level of sophistication.”

The mood is very different at the Sculpture Gardens restaurant, where a reading is held on the first Sunday of every month. As you enter what appears to be a Garden of Eden, you hear the sounds of a flute and muted instruments. Once a hothouse, this eatery and art center, which hosts art shows and classical music concerts, has its own horticulturist on hand. The restaurant caters to an upscale poetry crowd.

For the past five years, poetry coordinator Joyce Schwartz, along with seven others, has screened poets’ printed material and tapes. “We like to know that (they) can read.”

Cecilia Woloch, a former copywriter and publicist and head of California Poets in the Schools, fills in for Schwartz. “I’m one of the few who makes a living as a poet; I’m thrilled I’ve found my niche.”

Woloch and the others reading recently are part of Cahuenga Press, a group of self-publishers.

Waiters bring extra chairs for a group of 45, who sit and drink coffee and eat homemade muffins. The white walls are filled with--what else?--sculpture, sundry artwork including detailed masks.

Harry Northrop, a well-known Los Angeles poet, reads about the lovemaking he and his wife, Holly Prado, experienced on their honeymoon in Pismo Beach. He is the only poet to speak without a microphone. Perhaps this is because he has performing experience.

Woloch introduces Jim Cushing as a romantic and weird poet. In a soft melodic voice, he reads from “You and the Night & the Music” a piece he wrote between the classes he teaches at Cal Poly.

“There’s an urgency for people to speak for themselves,” says Prado. “We live in a depersonalized society. In Los Angeles, we are bombarded with the media--films, TV, etc. With poetry we have an intimacy, a singular, individual voice.”

Evelyn Zone, a British administrative assistant, comes to the reading because it’s a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Her companion, Oberto Anselmi, a retired attorney and art historian, hopes to meet women. The duo leave during intermission to scope out their next poetry-reading destination.

Several blocks away, the Beyond Baroque Literary Arts Center--the longest-running poetry workshop in L.A., established in 1969--holds its no-frills open reading. Anyone who signs up can read.

But not everyone believes it is necessary to read in public.

Poet, author and actor Macdonald Carey--a member of the Baroque board--reflects on a phone conversation he once had with fellow poet Charles Bukowski.

“Don’t get caught in that trap,” Bukowski told him. “It takes away writing time.”

Agrees Carey--who is known for his humorous anecdotes, just turned 78 and is planning his fourth book of poetry--”There is so much to write and to say.”

For information on poetry events, call the Poetry Hotline (818) 992-POEM.