Report from 2nd May

Began with some bluesy guitar from Stedy. Sam came through the factory gates with darkness in his eyes. James from Bucksnort, Tennessee: Have you heard? They got Obama! Trelys Du Prè (photo) knows that you are the perfect you. No one else can be you better!

Adèle’s characters looked up from the pages saying ”Give us life, give us life!” Roxy Azari was our featured poet:

An Iranian American slam-winning poet from NYC, with electrifying passion, on a kind of slam workshop world tour.
Julien Field told of drinking in the Zorba with a decidedly insalubrious entourage, as somebody sprinted away into the night with his backpack. Troy was trying to trap the hunter to the sound of frogs barking. James spoke of sulphurous release where they fashion death in jackets. Chris, Georgina, Hal (pictured) and Patrick had Osama’s compound ”mapped out down to the last ass-crack… and we knew it was gonna get hairy! Americans can do whatever we set our minds to.”
Georgina: When a squid ejaculates in your face it’ll give you a lazy eye that won’t ever get off the couch. Patrick sang ”Please don’t go!” as Hal delivered pizza in his mum’s old mini van. Myself & Emmanuelle poisoned ourselves with Baudelaire. Marie and Antoine leaked light everywhere, drowning.
Tyler (pictured) told of his year long crush on a Mormon: ”Our bodies raged and we masturbated like it was religion.”
But as he said, ”All us boys do is piss white and feel tired.”
Suzanne teetered besides the canal. Growing older is no Swan lake! Alberto answered questions on Aristotle using a text he translated from ancient Greek. Zack and friend counselled ”Blow up your TV!”:
The night came to an end as Fanny’s shoes filled up with stones. As Hannah noticed, ”everyone seems spun together by the end of the night.” Troy raged against the dying of the light. ”But look,” said Preeti, ”here come the fish people.”
More tomorrow night, Monday from 8pm (poetry starts at 8.30) with Alberto philosophising and acting as your host.
Cheers all,
David
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