Report from Breaking Things, 7th Sept 09

12 poets, singers, performers. Improvised poetry! And a full bar. SpokenWord is back!
I kicked off with an account of how I broke my arm the day we found the electric vagina in the cellar. Pieton, Utopianist, revait d’un pays qui s’appelle Noland, where there are no hangovers. Maxime, suffering from Mercury Retrograde, read from Lebanese (and Paris resident) poet Etel Adnan The sun revolves in cyclones… Christopher sang (no metaphor) that this poem is my stance – an imbecilic man falling off a ladder. Brought his broken banjo, missing teeth. He says my wife’s ghost lies with him. Sam gave a remote interview, looked over the piece of toast’s shoulder, charged the zinc. Armen Kassabian did his freestyle and improvised rap thing – you can find the pills we eat on his blog Alberto said something incoherent and unprintable about me and how he claims I really broke my arm, then launched into his jazz tribute to Archie Shepp, French-kissing a golden swan. Betty listened to Stevie Nicks’ loneliness, like a heartbeat. John Kirby Abraham brought the guy who tried to break the metro. Sally extracted from her novel a short piece: The Break-Up (God told me to.)
In the second half, Christopher was in a Sentimental Mood. Sophie smashed porcelain at German weddings. Betty broke through the wall between her voice and the world. Alberto apologised. I told about houses, used as homes. Bad dreams carried in the metal of the cars on the roads. Sam read Ted Berrigan which turned out to be stronger than alcahol. Lia spoke of New Year’s Day, breaking with the past, disappearing fast. Oog (yes, that is what he calls himself) advised everyone to Remain calm! Stay in your homes! Be happy! (Or you’ll be shot!) a text by Jello Biafra used on Ice T’s Copkiller album. And at the end, as the numbers dwindled to a happy few, Sandy brought out an ode about loneliness. feeling kind of funny, gotta find your number.

Next SpokenWord is 21st September. Theme – School.

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