Hot Damn!

As a member of an esteemed panel of judges – Lizzie Violet, David Bateman, Cate McKim & random audience members, I finally got to try out my best JLo frowns at Hot Damn! It’s a Queer Slam, Wednesday night at Supermarket in Kensington. Whew, now that’s a long sentence.

All too often I find myself the only gay guy at a poetry event. There are some trans, queer women who I see around but the guys are rare. I’ve blogged about this before so won’t go it it again. At Hot Damn! there were other queer men in the room & I wasn’t the only one over 50. Sweet.

toys love the Disney dildo and other colourful sex toys

The event is hosted by the potty-mouthed Cathy Petch (who would rather be pussy-mouthed, if you get her drift). Free of her pervious host duties she was more free-wheeling and out there than ever & was clearly happy to have the chance to just be herself with a like minded audience. She and Brock Hessel are the organizers of this much needed slam.

Hot Damn! is sponsored by LBGTOut and Get Screened, both of whom made brief presentations. LBGTOut reminded us about World AIDS day. David Bateman read a portion of his piece about being diagnosed ‘How Does it Feel’ – ‘it’s like getting a whole new lease of life, but a very short term’ – funny, emotional and surreal.

blackhat head shot

The slammers were excellent, all very different in approach to queer, bi themes. It’s hard to make notes & score at the same time but some lines I caught ‘we are close/single bed close,’ ‘the rough draft of my body,’ ‘I alway fall for straight women,’ ‘my body is not scared, but its not a ruin either.’ Sorry if I didn’t get exact wording (drop me a note & I’ll correct.)

I’ve heard Regie Cabico a few times and his ease on stage is a joy to watch. He’s funny, emotionally real, direct, surreal and compelling plus is a hot Philippine stud. ‘Harriet Tubman was my slam coach,’ ‘I was never Asian enough for the roles I was auditioning for,’ ‘your fucking is foreshadowing,’ ‘Trojan as heavenly host.’ He’s made me seriously consider going to Catching Fire – not the movie but the international gathering of queer slam poets this June in Washington (maybe I’ll crowd fund my trip there.)

doors try door number 3

Check out 🙂 A vibrant night of energetic, emotionally connected & connecting poetry that I’ll make a regular monthly (when it is in Toronto) show not to be missed.

lifewithmorecowbell on the same show, with pics:



December 14 – special guest spot – Lizzie Violet’s Cabaret Noirnoirmas


I  hit the open stage with this, Moonbelly & Last Will & Testament

Art Abstracted

what do you do when art stops working

when the frame is the attraction

the word becomes conclusion

even when there is no way back

you wouldn’t go back even if you could

memory can’t be changed

filtered scribbled over tattered torn

art gives it less than it needs

without the image

would there be reason to look

if the TV was a black blank

that didn’t reflect our fevered faces

as we peer into it scrying for an answer

when the answer isn’t art but industry

when the artist becomes the freak

the curio that uses a pencil paper

how pretentious it is to dip a brush

use actual language

instead of breaking things into relics

that at the right distance

form an impression of misty bitterness

at not being as famous an artist as …

well I can’t name a famous artist

because it takes one to know one

which is what happens when

art doesn’t work anymore

if a starlet falls in a club

and there are no cameras present

did she make a noise

that sort of glib patina of cynical flash

is the art that works today

shoots off at the lip

in an attempt to distract

long enough for something real to happen

fast for a moment blur then gone

as we don’t want it to be remembered

history is for dead people

death is art that has stopped working

snowpurses purses in the snow

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

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