The September 19 edition of the Art Bar hosted by Mike Lipsius went around the world in approximately 80 minutes. Barbara Pelman, visiting in Victoria BC – took us to Sweden, Italy & BC; Klara du Plessis, a South African expat, visiting from Montreal took us to her roots; while I visiting from who know where took the audience to Cape Breton, Japan & Queerville.
Barbara Pelman read a series of poems about bridges filled with evocative memory, colour & taste – Matisse rich with a tinge of Munch realism. ‘there is nothing you can take home in your melting hands’ ‘everything the same & not the same’ ‘blackberries summer in her mouth’ ‘unfolds the hours without lists’ ‘the blue doors still asleep’ ‘the morning opens slowly’ ‘reds browning blues blackening’ ‘if only you believed this was enough’ ‘or jump.’
Klara du Plessis started several short pieces with words locked like with stones & carefully placed for the right effect: Serrault precision with a hint of Monet. ‘to welcome the warm’ ‘like saying the skeleton is sexing the bone’ tangible but illegible’ ‘cling to acts of a future self’ ‘rain redefining the meaning of rain’ ‘the guilt of imperfection weighs me down’ ‘a female five o’clock shadow’ ‘the inner narrative of a vase.’ Her long piece Waxing Lyrical was an unexpected foreshadowing of my set.
I started my Lichtenstein pop art set with Don’t Touch (My Hair), finished it with Arrg Godzilla. The ‘topical’ social commentary pieces didn’t go over as well as my nostalgic Waiting For The Boats (http://wp.me/p1RtxU-2rt) or the fun & funny Socks but I’m determined to be heard as more than just another funny gay guy with a great shirt. I sold a couple of chap books too, which is always nice.
It was also great to see several of the Renaissance Conspirators in the audience – fellow writers who have heard & seen me grow & change over the years. The Free Times is a great spot for any series. Good sound quality, a cozy room & of course a great kitchen. I last appeared at the Art Bar in 2009 so get ready for my return there in 2025.
Socks
where did you get those socks
my mother had a pair of
argyle socks in her left hand
these aren’t yours
they certainly
don’t belong to your father
I didn’t want to tell her
I got them from a girl
in my class at school
we had swapped socks at recess
I had loved the way
these argyle socks looked
in her brightly polished penny loafers
she liked my ordinary red socks
that matched her tartan skirt
so we swapped
I saw them as socks
not as girls’ clothes
yet at that moment
I was afraid
ashamed
to tell my mother
that I owned that pair of girls’ socks
I found them in your drawer
she said
looking for the mate to this one
she held up a crusty black sock
going through my drawers
was something she often did
to make sure I hadn’t
just stuck my dirty undies or socks
in there
not to have them
all over the floor
I found them
I finally blurted out
found them!
she exclaimed
you brought a dirty pair of socks
into my house
how did you know they didn’t have fleas
or something worse?
I washed them before I brought them home
I said
washed them where!
at school.
then you can take them back
to where you found them
and don’t let me ever catch you
bringing home dirty clothes
you find in the street
ever
they’re nice socks I said
what do think
people will think
that we can’t afford to buy socks
I nodded
I guess you’re right
she was lucky
I didn’t bring the skirt home too
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TOpoet 