Full Frontal

On a recent Disability After Dark Andrew Gurza talks about The Sessions – a movie that made a big splash some years ago dealing with a disabled man & his female sex surrogate. I thoroughly enjoyed Andrew’s scene-by-scene look at The Sessions. A movie which I have not seen – too emotional manipulative for me. I don’t like being forced to feel good.

It was important to hear about a movie from an ‘expert’ – someone who knows about the reality of disability as opposed to some reviewer, critic who is caught up in the drama & not aware of facts. Andrew pretty much likes the emotional content of the movie which resonated with his lived experience. He calls out a few anachronisms (modern wheelchair instead of period one) & also how little the hero’s privacy is respected. 

The other thing which he notes is nudity. He questions why Helen Hunt, the lead actress, get full frontal while John Hawkes, the male lead, gets minimal exposure, even in the sex scenes. This is not unique to this movie though. Showing breast & vagina is not longer so shocking but the male body remains pretty much hidden. Lots of fast ass shots, never the well-lit, lingering shots that female nudity gets.

Female nudity is rarely seen as gratuitous if it fits the story. In Sessions if nudity makes sense for Helen Hunt then nudity makes equal sense John Hawkes should as well, right? This is one of those double-standards. Male performers have to worry about ‘performance anxiety’ or are shy about displaying their cock at all – what if it doesn’t measure up to their fans fantasies. Isn’t that cgi is for? If they can double the cost a film by digitally enhancing the hair of the lead for every scene he’s in, surely a few minutes of cock shouldn’t be an issue.

Or perhaps they wanted to respect the dignity of the disabled man – after all his disability was enough without exploiting his dick, too. When one catches a glimpse of a stars’ cock it is a flash – even when that dick is the supposedly the star: i.e Boogie Nights – where there is ample bared female but a split-second moment of Dirk Diggler’s supposed large cock & even that was a bad fake – they couldn’t afford a stunt cock.

I’ll end this with my favorite big star full-frontal from Fight Club. Brad Pitt appears at least 4 times in a single frame at various points in the film. My vision was so good it caught the first one & thanks to our dvd player I was able to frame-by-frame at the points were Pitt flashed me. That was no stunt cock 🙂

How Deep Is My Love

my love is deeper than Nietzsche

deeper than the gap between 

spiritual fantasy and sexual reality 

deeper than what we all thought the 60’s meant

my love for you is longer than 

the time between knowing 

it isn’t working and ending it

longer than the time between 

ending it and getting over it

I love you more than this shirt look great on me

my love is harder than 

peanut brittle in Arctic moonlight

my love is more hopeful than 

an overflowing recycling bin

my love for you is longer than 

the arm of the law 

holding a restraining order 

my love for you is purer 

than the water in the bottle of 

rapidly disappearing ice shelf 

melted just so you 

could have a sip 

and throw it away

my love for you is purer than a dream

my love for you is purer than 

how you felt 

before you even know the difference

between a care bear and a pubic hair

my love for you is stronger 

than the tang of expresso 

with a flavour shot of almond

to cover that weird burned taste

my love is truer than 

all those Facebook friends 

who rsvp’d they’d be here

my love for you is stronger than 

your need to be loved

my love for you is 

no longer the crime it once was



every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

September 25, Tuesday – Horror feature – The Art Bar, Free Times Cafe


Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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Sal Mineo & The Grass Roots

The Grass Roots: All Time Greatest Hits starts off a mp3 collection of wide ranging bands mostly from the mid to late 60’s. Grass Roots was corporate packaged to produce hits, slick, well produced, solid pop that is nearly interchangeable with top ten hits from The Archies or The Monkees or Three Dog Night. The hits bring back eat coast memories. The band itself wasn’t that well through of though thanks to their popularity. But musically better than say 1910 Fruitgum Company.

Another corporate package was Sal Mineo! I have The Complete Epic Recordings. I say packaged because there was an attempt to make teen movie or TV stars into pop stars (& vice-versa). George Maharis, Chris Connelly also experienced this same corporate attempt to capitalize on their stardom. I love Sal. His life is tragic, his on screen presence is magnetic & he was hot. His singing is ordinary, perhaps even mediocre. His material belies his open homosexuality with absurd songs of teenage boy girl love. Hearing his sing songs like “My Bride” is more sad thn campy. 

Another TV star was Don Grady (My Three Sons) his band The Yellow Balloon – released one lp of sunshine pop – think Beach Boys, in fact Beach Boys make an appearance. This is a something I came across rather than searched out. An artifact as opposed to a neglected treasure. Diverting but no compelling.

Also here are some one-hit wonders: first up is Rare Earth with: One World, Willie Remembers, Ma – three solid lps full of cover versions of things like What’d I Say & original songs. The hit was I Just Want to Celebrate. All solid music. Sugarloaf had one hit Green-Eyed Lady which is not on their  Spaceship Earth: album. The music is competent but it could be Grass Roots for it’s lack of identity. Both bands successfully try their hand at long form: i.e. pieces that run over ten minutes.

Ides of March had one big hit: Vehicle & a couple of lps including Common Bond. When Vehicle hit the charts many though: oh a new single from Blood, Sweat & Tears. lead vocalist is a ringer for David Clayton Thomas & the horns have the same smooth jazz brass sound. It seemed only natural to include Ten Wheel Drive’s Brief Replies to finish off this collection. Another big brassy jazzy-pop band but edgier than BS&T but no one would mistake dynamic lead singer Genya Ravan for Thomas. I have more Ten Wheel tucked away on other compilations.


‘You coming Judy?’

‘Not right away.’

Safti had usually walked with her from the bus to the school. Fifteen, he had failed a year and was in same the grade her, but not the same class.

‘Don’t want to be late, do you?’

‘It’s okay. First period is an easy one for me. You get going though. I’ll see you at lunch.’

‘Okay. Thanks for helping me with the History stuff. You are such a brain.’

‘Thanks. Too bad Sal was more like me, right?’

‘Whatever. See you.’

He ran across the parking lot and into the side door. Only the boys could use that door. She peeped around the front to see if those girls where there. They weren’t. She hurried up the steps. They were just inside the front door.

‘Oh! Look who’s trying to sneak past,’ Jen grabbed Judy by the hair and yanked her back hard.

Judy began to cry. ‘Leave me alone.’

‘Yeah in a minute.’ Jane unzipped Judy’s backpack and twisted it so books began to fall out. ‘Oh you are such a clumsy girl.’

The three of them laughed at her. Jane shoved a note into the backpack. ‘This is your death sentence.’

A boy who saw what they were doing looked the other way and rushed by.

‘You are going to get what’s coming to you soon. Very soon. Sooner if you tell anyone about this. You understand.’ Jen backed her hard against the wall. ‘You understand?’


‘That’s a good girl.’ Laurie kicked Judy’s pens across the hall floor. ‘Be glad we take an interest in you.’

The three laughed again. The bell rang.

‘Shit we better get a move on.’

‘If we’re late because of you, shit face, it’ll be even sooner than you think.’

Judy stooped to pick up her scattered books & pens.

‘Having some trouble are we?’

Judy looked up. It was Mrs. Glasgow, the Math teacher.

‘Oh no, nothing I just dropped my backpack trying to get my … to get a …’ she could see the three girls at the end of the hall glaring at her. ‘Get my favourite pen.’

She stood up. Telling wouldn’t do her any good. Not now. Not ever. She’d be a snitch, a rat and no one would ever like her. Not that they did like her much now, but to rat on those girls would only make things worse for her. Much worse.

‘Get a move on then Judy.’

‘Yes Mrs G. I mean, Mrs. Glasgow.’

She scurried up the stairs, stopped to read the note. ‘Want to die faster? Do us a favour & save us the trouble.’ 

She got into her class just as the door closed.

‘Cutting it close again Judy? I don’t know what’s gotten into you.’



every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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Escoude and The Boys

I have, as a stand-alone CD, bought on sale at HMV, Christian Escoude with strings: Plays Django. That is Django Reinhardt one of the jazz guitar masters who pioneered guitar in jazz & remains one of the most amazing players. Escoude captures the sound & flavour of Django but not the ‘energy.’ This is a great recording for anyone starting on their jazz journey.

His sound is similar to Wes Montgomery – inventive without being aggressive. Tasteful & sweet. The strings provide a sonic pillow for the guitar but, to me, don’t add anything to the music. This is often my issue with string quartets in jazz they rarely interact with, in this case, the guitar. I suppose they are meant to add a level of sophistication but who cares. They become another sound as opposed to a participant. Almost lounge music but excellent.

Speaking of lounge music next on the shelf is the soundtrack to The Fabulous Baker Boys – a fine movie about brothers, played by the Bridges brothers Beau & Jeff, who are dual piano playing nightclub performers. Think Ferrante & Teicher. Dave Grusin music is spot on but it is Michelle Pfeiffer who steals the movie & makes the soundtrack a must have. She does her own singing & sets the piano top on fire with Makin’ Whoopie & My Funny Valentine. Bought this a yard sale for a buck as a real stand-alone – it didn’t even a jewel case.

Next the perfect antidote to the the previous is The Essential John Fahey – folk/blues experimental guitarist. Inventive, warm & an amazing guitarist. His layered use of sounds mark him as a precursor for hip-hop & sampling. The sound quality of his acoustic guitar is fresh & some of this could be new yesterday it hasn’t dated at all. This is an lp to cd dupe. I picked up the lp at Cheapies, back in the day 🙂

Deal With It

Judy peered up the the sixth floor. Were there lights on in her place? Was someone home? She had her key but she just didn’t like to get home when there was no one else there. 

A bunch of boys played kick ball in the courtyard behind the building.

‘Hey Judy want to kick this around?’

‘Oh yeah Safti. Call me when its fully grown.’

The boys laughed and let her pass.

‘What’s up with that brother of yours?’

She didn’t answer. Nothing to tell. They knew the cops had picked him up a few weeks ago. Why a boy would want to keep getting in trouble for these guys was beyond her? If he was here though she could get him to look after those bitches as school. Threaten to kill her would they? She’d get someone to show them a thing or two.

‘Hi Judy.’

‘Hi Mr. Ramos.’

The super of the building creeped her out. He was just so nice and always had a smile. Didn’t seem right. All men are pigs and want something. Her mother told her that over and over. Just like your dad. Don’t give’m a chance.

‘You look a bit down about something.’

‘Nothing Mr Ramos. History test tomorrow. I want to well so Ma’ll be proud of me.’

‘History. Taking that in school sure helps me with my work here. You know what I mean.’

She squeezed by him in the corridor. 

The apartment was empty. Since Sal was gone even emptier. She checked for phone messages. Her Ma sometimes left messages when she wasn’t going to get home from the store. There were two. One from Ma that she’s be late; and the other:

‘Listen Judy goody two shoes you better watch your step or we will cut you. This is just between us so don’t get any ideas or they’ll be last ideas you get.”

Someone the background said, ‘Good one Jen.’

‘Have a good night bitch or deal with it.’

Judy sank into the couch. What could she do? How did they get her phone number? Her heart beat. These girls were after her and had been since school started. She had never seen them before and now they were out to kill her. Who could she tell. No one because if she told they’d kill her for sure.

Her Ma would say ‘Don’t be such a pussy.’ or ‘I’ll come down there and set them straight.’

God what could be worse – death or your mom coming to stick up for you in front of everyone as school?

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every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr



Vampire Willow

 Finally worked through the Buggering, I mean, Buffering archive (if I type too fast I hit ‘gg’ instead of ‘ff’.) Listened to all expect their look at Wonder Woman – I’ll wait until I’ve seen the movie. Hosts Jenny Owen Youngs & Kristin Russo have expanded the podcast, thanks to advertisers (who knew book of the month still existed) & Patreon supporters. Interviews with actors who have appeared on the show increased from those with episode appearances to those with full arc appearances.

I enjoyed the interviews with the mayor, with the deputy mayor, even one with Buffy’s mom. Fun stories, though one of the interviews was close to an infomercial for that actor’s current ‘empire.’ I was sad to see the mail-bag episodes become a bonus for their Patreon supporters. 

Season 3 is the Faith season & has too many great episodes for me to pick a favorite. Band Candy is one standout. Vampire Willow is unforgettable, as is MOO (now that’s a t-shirt I’d buy). The Mayor has most of the best moments & lines with his ‘square Dad’ banality that barely contains his inner demon. The writers & the actor had a great time giving this villain so much character & personality.

The Faith and Buffy chemistry simmers with lesbian tension in nearly every scene they have together – even their final confrontation. The hosts are sure it boiled over in not-seen scenes between slayings. I don’t find it as daring as they do though. Lesbianism – girl-on-girl – has always been more allowable in entertainment, than man-on-man. If the writers had, say, Zander & Oz, display this same kind of sexual chemistry then the show would have been revolutionary as opposed to merely toying with the acceptable girl-on-girl trope.

Diversity increased with Mr. Trick – the first regular black character. Played with great panache, & out dressing even Cordelia, he is a commanding presence but remains underdeveloped & under utilized. Race is mentioned but not explored. Why are there so few poc in Sunnydale, even as background fillers? 

In one podcast the hosts speculate on how Buffy would be made today – how would it be cast? Probably with the same formula now used in Hollywood that allows for limited but more poc. A black Willow with access to African spiritual energy; probably piss-baby Zander would be and Asian dude or perhaps Giles would be the Asian character as he so wise & serene. 

The season ends with a resounding bang that destroys the high-school – which (spoiler alert) is revisited in mid-season 4 & remains in ruins. I guess when Sunnydale High blew up to seal the Hell Mouth the department of education opted not to rebuild. I suppose they are bussing the students to another county now. 

My previous Buffering posts:

Buffy Buffy Buffering https://wp.me/p1RtxU-2P5 

Buffering Season 2 https://wp.me/p1RtxU-2Sf

A Bite

one morning there was a bite

an arc on my forearm 

almost on my elbow

clear distinct human

top row bottom row

teeth marks

skin not broken

bruised red ridges indents

not where I could have done it

it wasn’t there when I went to bed

there was another bite

on my left heel

it was tender to the touch

another spot my mouth could never reach

then a final bite mark

on my inner thigh

I could still feel a mouth there

a tongue warm and wet

as teeth sank in

as if someone had

tried to devour me in my sleep

all day I found myself

rolling up my sleeve

just far enough to see the first bite

it hadn’t faded into a pink rose

it was still there

an red angry smear

when I got home

the others were also there

as if something had a hold of me all day

I checked the mirror carefully

had I missed one

did they make a pattern

they didn’t glow in the dark

they didn’t throb

there was no pain

only the sensation of my hand

when I touched them

weeks later

years later

they are still there

and despite them

there is never less of me



every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked) capfireslam.org 

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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glueleg vs Gnarls

glueleg is a Canadian band you might not expect me to enjoy as much as I do. I have as stand-alones: Heroic Doses, Clodhopper. A now defunct Toronto band they had a hard-edged progressive, art-rock sound – think punk Blood Sweat & Tears! That’s right or even Chicago thanks to a section of sax, trumpet along with their distinctive grunge sound. Reminiscent of Kind Crimson – they even do a cover version of Red.


I saw a video on MuchMusic – remember when that as a video channel? The horn sound held my attention – the rhythm  was a bit clunky in a funky boozy jazz way. The lyrics were a bit surreal but romantic in the hetero angsty way. A rare Canadian art-rock band that worked well without feeling contrived or bored with it all. 


Next is Gnarls Barkley. I have St. Elsewhere, the odd couple as stand-alones. Yes there is a sprinkle of ‘modern’ pop in the my collection 🙂 These guys produced great summer hits that are an updated Marvin Gaye – r’n’b, urban trip-hop that is not overly challenging. I’d say it is perfect radio music but who listens to the radio anymore? I guess it’s perfect Spotify music (I don’t have Spotify).


Not as overtly sexual as say LMFAO but with the same pop smarts. Beautifully engineered the band is a delight to hear on headphones. Danceable, romanic, humorous, hetero music that is safe for the whole family. It’s good to know that there is urban music that isn’t all anger & angst. Crazy, eh?


The phone hadn’t rang all night. Dave kept hearing it though, over the sound of the dishwasher, while he vacuumed but it didn’t ring. Not once.

If his sister thought he was going to be a hotel at a moment’s notice she had another thing coming. This place was barely large enough for him, let alone her and Sally.

The phone didn’t ring. He picked it up several times times to call her but stopped. Calling would  only alert her mistake, as she called Matt, the guy she had married.

He could still see that wedding photo taken at the reception. She and Matt by a painting. He figured they weren’t aware of that painting. But he couldn’t miss the fact that it was a sailing ship going down in a storm with the face of Christ in the clouds offering salvation. An omen.

Only he was no salvation for anyone. No, she’d have to make other arraignments. Besides that letter was postmarked almost a week ago. If they were going to arrive they would have been there by now. 

The phone hadn’t rung. A good omen.

He wasn’t going to lose sleep over this. Couldn’t. Too much to do at the denim mine tomorrow. New shipments to sort. Make more sales. His real life. The life that give him purpose, accomplishment.

The vacuuming done he put the Hoover in its corner of the front closet. Closets in apartments were just too small. No storage space for much of anything. If he bought anything new he had to get rid of something else to make space for it. Kept life simple and compact.

Yes that was good. No room for anything more. 

No room for dolls, sister’s suitcases. She would bring the dog too. Was he allowed a dog in this building? Yes he’d seen some on the elevator. Stoop and scoop. Oh no, not him. Something to teach Sally to do.

It was nearing midnight. Everything was in order once again. Ready for the wave of his morning departure to scatter things here and there so that when he returned from work he had something to do, something to look forward to. Yes it felt good to make things neat and tidy. Kept them in their place.

The phone didn’t ring all night.

Dave drifted off to sleep quickly. Another dreamless night



every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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Chubby Emitt Blossoms

Picture this – your lead singer is such a drunk your label fires him after recording your first album, the album is a smash, you have hits with songs he wrote. But you can’t get him back because he committed suicide after being fired. Hollywood fiction? No, this is the story of The Gin Blossoms. The album was New Miserable Experience. I still have a review & write up about the band that was published in Entertainment Weekly.

With all that drama I expected Experience to be dark & brooding but instead it was light, cheerful. Songs were about breakups & romantic difficulties. Their sound was very Byrds – sweet guitar, strong harmonies. Comfortable. They followed it up with ‘Congratulations …I’m Sorry’ & later ‘No Chocolate Cake’ They’ve released other lps but these 3 are all I needed. Later albums are solid pop music, easy to listen to & lyrically they remain in that angsty sweet romance territory.

Also on this mp3 collection is music from the late-60s Emitt Rhodes. The Merry-Go-Round Live: the band he started with; then 3 of his solo lps Emitt; Mirror; Farewell To Paradise – by solo I mean he does everything. Plays every instrument. This was a thing back in the day & it was done without GarageBand 🙂 The group album is another Byrds/Cyrcle sound of radio friendly pop. 

I had the first two solos as lps then eventually replaced them with mp3. He sounds a like Paul McCartney (who also did a couple of I-play-everything lps). The songs are sweet, full of domestic playfulness. More a curiosity than compelling music. This I-play-everything has been taken up by Stevie Wonder, even Prince.


To span decades & styles I also have The Best of Chubby Checker here. He’s before my time but I do enjoy this r’n’b James Brown lite stuff that sold millions. He was part of the dance craze craze with songs here like The Fly, The Twist & even the Mashed Potatoes. Finally to bring things into this decade is some Nosaj Thing: Drift – fun electronica. All music you can dance to so – everybody do the peppermint twist.

Party in Pink

‘Do you think it’ll work? I mean does it suit me?’ The woman stood in front of the mirror holding a shapeless, pink lace blouse in front of herself.

‘Looks great. Good colour for you. What do you think David?’


Tracy always called on him for these final moments with a customer who had been worrisome. The woman had been in the story for about thirty minutes. The longer they took the less likely it was they would buy.

‘It’s for a party I’m going to. It isn’t too, you know …’

‘It’s fun but formal.’

‘I don’t want to look like a … ’ her voice dropped, ‘slut. You know what I mean.’

Dave wanted to laugh. Slut. It would take more than a blouse to make this mousy woman look like a woman let alone a slut.


‘I’m not sure. Let me look at that other one again.’

Tracy handed her a shiny silver pull over with small mirror beads sewn around the wrists and neck.

Dave went to overcoat section where a man had been taking coats down.

‘Can I help you, sir?’

He had been reluctant to go over as overcoats was Mr. Oaks speciality. No one sold these overpriced, dead weight coats as well as he did.

‘I was wondering …’


‘Are these waterproofed?’

David pulled a tag out of the sleeve of one of the coats.

‘Yes. It says here the wool has been treated to be water resistant.’

‘Water resistant is not waterproof.’


‘At this price I would expect it to be waterproof.’

‘Not in wool.’ Mr. Oaks joined them. His cologne was stronger so Dave knew he had been off for another visit to the facilities. 

‘Top quality is never waterproofed. You know what that does to the fabric. Destroys it. Absolutely. Oh, it looks fine but after a few rains you’ll be sorry. Stretches out. Looses its shape very fast, it does. Thanks to the waterproofing. Now these are the finest Alpinea wool, naturally water resistant. 

‘You know what that means? Water resistant? Water beads and rolls off. Simple.

‘Water proofing causes the fabric to hold water on the surface longer, it doesn’t just roll off but rather clings and drips. You have to hang to dry. Water resistant – once quick shake and its as dry as it needs to be.’

‘What do you think, dear?’ The man called over to the woman who was looking, once again, at the pink lace blouse.



April 03 – every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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So Over the Rainbow

I recently watched a History channel series on Frontiers’ Men about the exploration of the American west. It was, as expect, rah-rah about these intrepid men but also was unflinching about how the aboriginal peoples were mistreated, exploited and the degree of cultural genocide was disgusting – yet somehow the white immigrants are seen as civilizers of these savage tribes.

The features & slammers at the season 4 finale for Hot Damn! It’s A Queer Slam made it very clear the ways that that cultural genocide continues. I was grateful that Hot Damn! has provided a safe space for very complex layers of racal & gender cultural repression, to be exposed, expressed & appreciated. I was more than entertained I was moved & educated.

The Hot Damn! season ender slam at Buddies played a packed to the rafters – mean packed, the balcony was full, extra seating had to brought out – enthusiastic audience. After acknowledging our debit to the natives who occupied this land Charlie Petch.

The show opened with Mahlikah Awe:ri Enml’ga’t Saqama’sgw (The Woman Who Walks In The Light) drum talk poetic rapologist who did a powerful set about the racial imbalance in the justice system. Mahlikah was emotional, impassioned & without expressing their anger allowed us to feel our own. ‘they are tracking us’ ‘you can’t see what you don’t understand’ ‘seeking their own power/ looking for home’ ‘150 years of being acquitted by your peers.’

Witch Prophet (an evolution of Toronto based, Ethiopian/Eritrean singer/songwriter Ayo Leilani. A soundscape of vocal layers, loops and harmonies on a bed of hip-hop, jazz and soul-inspired beats) gave us a music set that gave us a taste of their up coming album. The first piece was a freshly multi-tracked piece – voice was layered on itself & on itself to create that vocal soundscape. A solo piece but for dozens of voices. The DJ added interesting beats to the other pieces with sweet variations, more complex vocal interplay. Touches of pop, jazz, and hip-hop created a fresh sound. ‘What if I told you who I was/ would you be more fearful’

After a break the slam proper (or is improper the right word?) got underway once Charlie played ‘Over The Raindow’ the queer national anthem on the saw. Lines from round one: ‘tempered by hot sand’ ‘one first bite I know I am stubborn’ ‘death is just another word for resistance’ ‘my emotions fluid like my gender’ ‘a generation where we can’t express ourselves so we cat out’ ‘I like to think I am fine’ ‘this books haunts me/ it took place in my home town/ a dozen murdered women’ ‘this book is too heavy for my heart’ ‘the graveyard were the bodies were disposed of’ ‘I thought my feelings were love’ ‘I’m told to find comfort in being uncomfortable’ ‘a mirror whose only task is to tell me how lonely I am’ ‘smelling of something I can’t quite remember’ ‘hear the heart break of all of us at once’ ‘we are no more than the pain they throw to us’

After too brief a breather round two; ‘saggy baggy jeans’ ‘she took me to places others were scared to’ ‘the ears of lady justice plugged by the screams of white men’ ‘I find it hard to breathe when I think about the future’ ‘how much space does nothingness take up’ ‘the object of disconnection devalued your voice’ ‘this is just a voice’s journey’ ‘this art is not a luxury’ ‘don’t ever forget what your voice looks like’ ‘you are what I thought impossible’ ‘everyone ends up leaving anyway’ ‘their eyes said what they could not’ ‘we already labeled as little criminals’ ‘killing us while our hands are up’

If I’ve misquoted keep in mind I’m listening, making notes & getting my score ready. Many of the slammers lost points by running past the 3 minute 10 second limit, so some of the final scores were affected by those deductions. Defending 2017 winner D’Scribe won the trophy once again. 



April 03 – every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr



Babel Gilberto

For a time Brazil became a hotbed for Latino electronica. The sound was, as one might expect, laid-back & sensual. It simmered. Out of that simmer came Babel Gilberto. Yes, daughter of Joao Gilberto! Never heard of him? Time for google to expand your knowledge base 🙂

In my collection I have stand-alone’s of her tanto tempo, Bebel, Momento, All In One – she moves from electro bossa nova to a more acoustic sound. Even the electronica is subtle thanks her early producer Suba. As she grew she became her own producer as well.

The music spans classic bossa nova, samba songs to original material. Her voice is warm, sensual & inviting. I guess this is contemporary adult pop. She’s not as pop as Shakira, not as jazzy as Flora Purim or Astrid Gilberto. She is the perfect start for anyone interested in Latino music. 


You might also want to check out Suba – he died young in a fire so there isn’t a lot but what there is is sublime. He worked within the cross between lounge chill, exotica and pop to produce some excellent music on his San Paulo Confessions. There is a great tribute album as well called, for some reason, Tributo.

Big Sale Tomorrow

David stooped to unlock the bolts at the bottoms of the heavy glass doors. There was still several minutes before actual opening but this would save him having to open & close them to let in the rest of the staff. One of the small powers of being assistant manager.

This was a welcome day with no special sales to worry about. It would give them a chance to get things organized before the next flush of super savings offerings. He felt a day closed would do more good for them than a sale. Things sold faster when there was some sense of organization.

‘Hi Dave.’

‘Hi Tracy.’

He stopped folding sweaters to nod to her.

‘Nice colour.’

‘Thanks.’ Tracy smiled.

Today her hair was a copper-red.

‘You should try it sometimes.’

‘Yeah. Right. That order of women’s singlets arrived. Let’s see if we can’t get them out by afternoon.’

‘You got it.’

She disappeared into the staff change room.


‘Good morning Mr. Oaks.’

John Oaks was the senior senior salesperson. Above manager. He’d been with the company since looms were invented, or so the staff felt.

‘Nice pants.’

‘Thanks Mr. Oaks.’

‘You get them here.’

Dave hesitated. ‘I think so. Last fall.’

‘I don’t think so. Look good though. We need more quality stuff like this, you know. This cheap stuff sells but doesn’t keep people coming back. Not easy for me to watch’em leave with some of this crap.’

‘I know.’

‘Especially when our own staff won’t wear it. Time for a quick visit to the facilities before the hordes arrive to use up all the t.p.’

Dave nodded in agreement. This was one of Oaks morning routines. It came up at least once week. Bad merchandise one day would be followed by how little people knew about quality the next and the day after that would be how little the staff knew about clothing, about fit, about the right colours. Good thing he was there to keep them in line.

‘Hi Dave.’

‘Blake – time you showed up.’

Blake, the manager, was usually ten to twenty minutes later, after all that’s what an assistant manager is for. She always brought coffee for the staff – to get the day off on the properly caffeinated  foot.


HotDamn! It’s A Queer Slam


April 03 – every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr



But Ew Are … on Film Part 2

Blanche: You wouldn’t be able to do these awful things to me if I weren’t still in this chair.

Jane: But you are, Blanche! You are in that chair!

The wheelchair isn’t a mobility device in films it’s a plot device. Until recently it was the foreshadowing of the person in it to be pushed over a cliff, down a flight of stairs. Or the person was in it as the result of someone else’s careless actions but they seek to forgive not punish that person.


Thanks to the recent fictionalizing re-hash of the Bette David vs Joan Crawford ‘relationship’ in Feud one of the most notorious uses of the wheelchair has been brought back into the public eye. I didn’t need that refresher though. I recall the movie vividly & in particular the scene I quote above. I’ve also seen that scene re-enacted by drag queens – Jane & Blanch were at one time were in every drag make-up kit.

In viewing the Baby Jane movie recently, & thanks to Andrew Gurza having increased my awareness, I paid more attention to how Blanche’s disability was portrayed. She has the right mechanisms for getting herself in and out of her bed, into her chair & can hold herself in standing position at the window. Even in the novel she is relatively ‘spry.’ I never quite understood why her room was on the 2nd floor of a house with no elevator except as a plot point to keep her helpless. Her emotion response isn’t self-indulgent pathos but the plot does turn on her helplessness & her determined struggle to survive. Her disability drives the plot.

I recently watched an early 40’s sudser “A Life Of Her Own” that featured Lana Turner & Ray Milland. Lana gets involved with married Ray whose wife, Margaret Philips, is unable to gratify him after an accident that leaves her wheelchair bound. The wife is accepting & is willing to grant him a divorce. Lana meets the wife who turns out to be gentle, loving & her condition is the result of Ray’s drunk driving but the wife forgives him & wants to set him free of the terrible burden of looking after her. Lana says bye to both of them. If the wife had been a bitter vengeful shrew would Lana have said ‘bitch, he’s mine now.’ Disability is a plot device that underlines how heinous unmarried women are in their desperate need to land a man, any man, to complete themselves as humans.

I’ll save Kiss of Death for another post

Names Have Been Change To Protect The Idiots

it didn’t work out with

Rob   he had two lovers already

Alex   he lived with his mother

Paul   he died

Barry    I wasn’t fat enough

Yves   I had a life of my own

Charlie   I chipped a tooth on his PA

Allan   thought I was only into him because he was black

Leroy   I couldn’t stand American Idol

Gary   I made him feel stupid

Peter   wanted to move in after 3 weeks

Hank   I wasn’t needy enough

Zak   I didn’t party all night

Neil   I was too available

John   I wasn’t grateful enough

Phil   his meds kicked in at all the wrong times

Reg   he was never on time

Greg   I couldn’t read his mind

Bruce   I didn’t know enough about Judy

Anton   I didn’t want to get tied up

Marv   he was a lawyer

QMaxx   I wasn’t trendy

Don   I had so little body hair

Keith   I wasn’t uncut

Stan   wanted me to swallow even though he didn’t

Dave   had to work two jobs to make his support payments

Craig   preferred cam2cam to man2man

Darren   was a compulsive liar – so maybe we are still together

Sebastian   I wasn’t The One

Janet   I’m not really into women

Wally   snored

Lance   there was nothing outside the bedroom

Chris   preferred cologne to soap

Brad   was only gay when he’d had a few

Trevor   I was as old as his Dad and that was way too creepy

Brian   thought I was a slut for some reason

Daniel   he didn’t get this poetry thing


HotDamn! It’s A Queer Slam


April 03 – every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr



This Book Cooks

I discovered Booker Ervin in the late 80’s when I picked up a double lp of his at Cheapies. It was a compilation of tracks from other lps. I’d never heard of him or even heard him until then. He falls into the  Sonny Rollins, Pharaoh Saunders school of sax. His work is more hard-bop but gradually expanded but always remained firmly in the ‘real’ jazz mode. No easy listening.

His sound, to me, isn’t particularly distinctive, but his is always inventive & rarely harsh – say as Coltrane gets at time – even his free jazz work isn’t overly aggressive. In my collection I have The Book Cooks; Space Book; Back From The Gig; Structurally Sound; n’Brass; Cracklin.’ I really like his solid, timeless sound. These could be recorded yesterday unlike a lot of jazz from the 50s/60s/70s. One of the rewards of keeping it ‘acoustic’ – there are no washes of strings, or busy electronic keyboards to date his playing.

Tucked in with this mp3 collection is Chico Hamilton’s Easy Living: this in an lp to mp3 dupe. I’ve never found this Pacific Jazz compilation in digital form. Chico was a percussionist & the music here is held down by his tasteful drums & great sidemen (Gabor Szabo on some tracks). Just for the heck of it I also included the soundtrack for Social Network! I love this soundtrack & the music doesn’t need the movie to work. I have seen the movie but don’t have any images from it to put with the music.


If you’re looking to start into to jazz, Chico Hamilton is an excellent performer to explore. If you want somewhat more serious, Booker Ervin is a fine, less-known, sax player to start with – try Structurally Sound.




Dave rolled over to his right shoulder. The left was stiff, tingling from sleeping on it for too long. The bed was warm comfortable. He liked his bed. It hadn’t taken too long to get its valleys in just the right spots for his hips.

The alarm went off.

He reached for it.

Cool grey light filtered into the room around the edges of his blinds. He stretched out under the covers and then thrust them off in a quick motion. He knew if he wrapped himself in them now he’d sleep for another half an hour. Time he didn’t have to spare.

A quick morning prayer at the side of bed and then off to obey the call of nature.

Breakfast in the little nook by the kitchen. Not quite a dining room. Listening to classical music. Keeps the day from taking over too fast. Cereal. Toast with jam. Apple orange banana. Healthy meal.

Shower, shave. Clothes laid out the night before. Anything to save his brain from making decisions in the morning.

Plain white t-shirt, black boxers, black socks, blue shirt, red tie, black pants, black suede shoes, charcoal sports coat and he was ready to face the day.

Elevator fast for a change. Yesterday it had stopped on every floor going up and down. Some kids must have been screwing around. Good thing he was never in a hurry in the morning. He’d get there in time. Familiar faces on the elevator. Same ones he saw most mornings. Same ones with no names just small friendly smiles.

‘Looks to be a nice day.’


‘Didn’t get much rain this summer though.’


Quick glance at his mail box but empty. Mail never arrived this early but he always checked, just in case something was slipped in over night. Never was.

Crisp walk to the subway. More of the familiar faces on the street. Familiar nameless faces. He could almost tell what day it was by what certain people wore. A comfortable routine that allowed the fabric of his time to remain intact.

Down the steps  into the station. Flash his pass and to the platform. Crowded. Train pulled in and they crowed on. He never tried for a seat. Standing was good for the circulation, wore off a few more calories and one less worry.


HotDamn! It’s A Queer Slam


April 03 – every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked)

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice cream in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr