The Devil’s Dimple

Racket returned to the Rocket for a third season of eclectic spoken word with a fine fall line-up of novelists & poets hosted by Sandra Cardinal. She opened the show with a couple of autumnal poems.

I know first feature Sharon Crawford ( from her excellent monthly writers workshop (checker her web page for more info). She gave a ready-for-audio-book reading of excerpt from her short stories & her novel (launched Oct 19.14). From the tribulations of getting a body into a car trunk ‘she should have removed the golf clubs first, to evidence of adultery ‘she dangled the leopard print bra as if the spots were anthrax.’ The humour of the stories was evident but not at the expense of the suspense.

pumpkin01 boo – Church Street pumpkin

Next up was poetry feature, Norman Allen. I’ve heard Norman countless times; as well as having heard some of the pieces he read many times but they are like welcome friends who reveal greater depth each time you meet them. ‘the deal God made the Devil’, ‘this side of Atlantis we put on flesh’, ‘you don’t bow down to love/ you open your heart.’ His work is warm and spiritually grounded & lifting at the same time. (


you can’t rake me

Last feature Nick Pengelley ( discussed and read from his novel ‘Ryder’ that deals with the politics of the middle east (who knew that situation was caused by the film Lawrence of Arabia – just kidding – but his interest was partly inspired by the film). He read the first chapter which flowed easily while giving us back story, not only of the main character, but the climate of the times. It skillfully lead to a chapter ending that made me want to read the rest of the book, even though the politics don’t interest me at all.

wrapped nice costume

I did hit the open stage to plug my Noir feature & read one of the new pieces. It got a reaction exactly where I expected it to & turned the tables on the audience just as I hoped it would. A fine night, an appreciative house, a cup of peppermint tea & the Rocket’s excellent pumpkin loaf – who could ask for anything more.


The Devil’s Dimple


even the Devil started as a baby

sweet fresh innocent

everyone found his dimples so cute

‘whose the sweetest little baby

snookum I ever saw’

when he crushed the souls of millions

he found himself unfulfilled and empty

adulation and accomplishment

left him disappointed and bitter

unsure of himself

unable to figure out

what was wrong with him

after all

he had the cutest dimples

why wasn’t he content

with what everyone promised

would make him happy

things that made him feel cluttered

pushed having to accomplish

some new depth of evil

wasn’t it enough

that he was Evil itself

why did he have to keep on proving it

why couldn’t they leave him alone

he looked the mirror

‘I hate these fucking dimples

why was I ever born’

he took it out on the people

who pushed him

to be everything he could be

the greater the pain he felt in him

the greater the pain he had to inflict

he had no way of discarding his identity

no fresh start for Satan

no botox injections for Lucifer

to remove the source

of his eternal infernal damnation

his God given dimples

pumpkins eek

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