Report from 7th May

There were gasps and groans from the audience as Shane recounted cocoons being laid in his pubic hair. Helen read from her tale of an attempted poisoning. David Fishel ate near 50 pancakes to win a bet for his grandad. At first Lucy Hopkins was afraid, she was petrified. Jessamyn started smoking again; everythign looks like carnage in this country. I can’t sleep without your warmth.
Emily’s eyes roared with light. Alberto was investigated for child porn and won his case when accused of horse fucking. (Wtf! Where does this stuff come from? Sometimes I read over these notes and it’s like seeing icebergs loom out of the mist of my beery amnesia and settle back into reality.) Jason translated violence from Naples.

Round 2:
Lucy Gellman was there “…and someone to bake it with.” Moe was stealing back his life. Ben thought of others, a candle in the darkness. Lucile was left standing godless. Edward saw the rain full of ghosts. Constanza    read e.e.cummings’
THERE ARE SO MANY TICTOC
By e. e. cummings

there are so many tictoc
clocks everywhere telling people 
what toctic time it is for 
tictic instance five toc minutes toc 
past six tic 

Spring is not regulated and does 
not get out of order nor do 
its hands a little jerking move 
over numbers slowly 

we do not 
wind it up it has no weights 
springs wheels inside of 
its slender self no indeed dear 
nothing of the kind. 

(So,when kiss Spring comes 
we’ll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss 
lips because tic clocks toc don’t make 
a toctic difference 
to kisskiss you and to 
kiss me)

And then it was almost over. Caroline filled the empty space with flowers. And Evan brought us news from the internet wars – Porn vs Cats – which you can listen to here 

Next SpokenWord tonight, and every Monday, au Chat Noir.
Cheers,
David

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2 Responses to Report from 7th May

  1. cilda says:

    All credits to the left standing godless: the very talented Jodie Oakes. Visit her blog here: http://absinthefortheking.blogspot.fr/

  2. Liliesbyearthlight says:

    "seeing icebergs loom out of the mist of my beery amnesia"–beery or not, excellent metaphor for life. Love the cummings poem. Badly in need of a Spoken Word fix.

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