The October The Beautiful and the Damned was a chilling event. With horror poems from wicked host Lizzie Violet, vampire fiction from Monica S Kuebler, to my chainsaw patricide, all the bases were covered, plus a hot set from Laura L’Rock to take some of that eerie chill off, before sending people out in the cool of the evening.
After fine open stagers I was up first with my Go Bump set. I find that when I don’t stick to what people have come to expect of me – out-there-queer, sexual, funny they aren’t sure how to react. So my darkish set met with a luke-warm response – without punchlines or tender endings, audiences aren’t satisfied. I did sell some chapette books & made enough to cover my basic costs. The set was recorded by Myke Mazzei for a future cd.
Second set feature was Monica S Kuebler who read a choice section from her online serial novel Bleeder. A seasoned spoken-word performer, she picked the right scene from Chapter 6, it was the right length to hold our interest. ‘blood crusted tank-top and bird’s nest hair’ quickly sketched in the heroine – ‘gristly clean-up in aisle twelve’ offered a bit humour in what was a very tense as the heroine realizes ‘this was a blood farm and she was the prey.’
Music feature was Laura L’Rock who did a great set of radio friendly rock – a nice change from the Joan Mitchellesque folkies who often hit non-electric stages. The catchy songs were built on strong melodies, lyrics and sweet, yet rocking, acoustic backing supplied by Nik Beat & well, to be honest, I didn’t catch the other guitarist’s name. “I feel you choke me through the telephone line.”
a piece that almost made it into Go Bump
Give Me A Little Sign
a bluejay feather dances over snow
the first full moon of the new year
a silent wrap of smoke
forms the letters of a name
whose name mine yours
our hopes for the future
a dangling curtain moving at dawn
a pale handless shape
peers out into the fog
before the fire burns pure ashes
to scatter sooty on the snow
for the next fitful omen
a bus pulling up at the right moment
an old friend alive
where you least expected to see them
the number nine keeps popping up
how many times before it has meaning
like that bluejay feather
it has to have a meaning
a good moment to do something
but I don’t know where to begin
play the lottery submit that manuscript
make that phone call I’ve been putting off
should I act blindly
or bide my time for a better opportunity
a voice in an empty room
a phone call that goes unanswered
was that wrong number the right one
where are my lucky shoes
what do the stars have to say
entrails of run over squirrel tell me
it isn’t wise to dash across a busy street
grounds in the bottom of my Tim’s cup
tell me it’s time they cleaned that damn machine
that look in your eyes tells me
it’s time to drop my guard
will our clothes piled on the floor
the fold of pants legs and t-shirts
twined accidentally in the dark
be a sign of more than pleasure to be had
is there a message in the goosebumps on your back
in the fevered breath on my thigh
can I let a kiss be a kiss
not the next fitful omen
TOpoet 
Dangerous. How do you do it? You scare so good. I never know what to expect. I consider that genius. Hope I can get your chapette if you have any copies left.