But we are poets and we spit in the eye of adversity and make it say sorry for being a bit of a git. Anyhow, as luck would have it, I'd had the foresight to bring a compère with me who stepped into the breach with aplomb.
Après moi, le déluge - littéralement - namely, Wells Fountain Poets with Waterwoven, their collage of words, lines and stanzas. I found that having to listen harder to hear it meant that I concentrated better than the first time I encountered it, at Bath Poetry Cafe's Day of Good Poetry back in March when I thought it was fab, and this time I was swept away. Can't wait to hear it again in late September at Bristol Poetry Festival.
The final set of the evening was from Jo Waterworth, a well-named member of Fountain Poets, and former Bard of Glastonbury, Dearbhaile Bradley, whose poems conversed with each other quite happily.
As is so often the case after listening to good poetry, I left with my brain fizzing and making crackling connections. 'That's poetry fever,' said my compère, sagely. 'Beware.' But I don't care. Write in the heat of the moment, edit at leisure.
All photos courtesy Jo Waterworth