Dames – Wiggles and Bates

Heather Babcock’s Filthy Sugar is a noir window into a Wanda Wiggle’s life in the 30s – the writing is rich in hard-boiled dialogue, descriptions & situations. Set in the Toronto sex-trade of the time it is refreshingly non-judgemental, funny & at times sexy. Wanda does sort of wander through what we se of her life – an opportunity, & her overflowing bra, take her into the burlesque world.

At times Wanda reminded me of Playboy’s Little Annie Fanny – a buxom gal who innocently engages in sex & yet isn’t exploited or emotionally scarred by it. Matter-of-fact as opposed to unsavoury or shocking. Wanda has this same attitude & is aware & in control without being manipulative (unless pulling gun can be called manipulative) or deceitful. Heather builds a world that is true to the times but still has an element of fantasy that keeps it from feeling depressing or hopeless, which I suspect those times were. Characters are well-developed, situations are real & the emotion level is also real – no melodrama here. Check out her excellent blog https://meetmeatthesodafountain.home.blog .

From the 30s we move into the 40s – I was lead to Betty Bates: Lady at Law by The Stiletto Gumshoe‘s blog. I ordered the collection of complete stories from Amazon. It is full size pages but sadly in black & white. She is a kick-ass female lady, public defender at one point, district-attorney at another point. She battles gangsters, spies, mad scientists & the occasional unsavoury miscreant. There are enough great plots here for endless movies & I’m surprised she never made it to the screen.

Perhaps she was too independent for the male movie moguls to consider. Men are either villains or irrelevant, even her love interest goes undeveloped. No sidekick either. She gets into & out of jams mostly by her wiles & her martial arts skills. The drawings are classic comic book. The story writers & illustrators changed over the years. Some years she might have been naked except for a line drawn for hem & collar.

The collection is sweet though sadly the scans are not in colour, as the originals were, which results in more greys & blurred images. Also with her is Miss America: gifted with powers of the Statue Of Liberty she – fights criminals & spies. Fun rah-rah America propaganda. A collection worth checking out. The The Stiletto Gumshoe is another excellent blog.


the one area I feel empathy 

for straight guys is 


where are you supposed to look

when caught up 

in a barrage of boob

focus on her eyes if you can

and hope 

she doesn’t perceive 

the wavering flickers

as you try not to get drawn down


it is easy to see how women 

become objectified

even when they object to it

how to pretend she isn’t pretty

that you find attractive 


without being demonized

brow beaten by breasts 

for being such a beast


there’s no way of making up for it

no apology

no affirmative action

removes the taint of having a dick

of having two competing heads to think with

of being faulted 

for thinking with the wrong one

regardless of which one is being used

berated being opportunistic slaves 

to base male instinct

all men are guilty

no way out no absolution 

to be hormonally driven dick heads

is punishment enough


I have this simmering empathy 

when I get caught 

as they often do

in décolletage

try to make conversation

as subtle light shifts with each motion

as she pushes her hair behind her ear

try to focus on her words

try to ignore non-verbal communication


I’ve never heard a guy tell a woman 

‘stop looking at my package

my eyes are up here’

yeah I know

eyes are the window to the soul

I don’t think either of us is 

ready to go there

Hey! You can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee
sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Take 5 #Brubeck

Brubeck brought small combo jazz into the mainstream, much like Ellington did with big band swing, but small combo was probably a harder sell with its smokey basement room club sensibility. As a kid I remember hearing Take 5 as theme music for some Canadian TV show. That lp, Time Out, was one of the first real jazz lp’s I picked up. I dig those syncopations & grooved on Desmond’s ultra dry sax.



I eventually added lps Time Further Out, Time In. The ‘Out’ I have as stand alone. ‘In’ is part of an mp3 collection with other Brubeck’s. These are timeless jazz classics. They made me a fan of Desmond (more about him when I get to D). The scandal of replacing him with Gerry Mulligan still bubbles up in jazz today. Mulligan is great but quite different & the Brubeck work with him is different too – blusier.


black box crossing

At one time I had the 45 of Brubeck’s Mr Broadway theme which shows up on the Lp Impression of New York. Which is on the mp3 collection along with Storyville: a fine live lp. Gone With The Wind: Camptown Races anyone? Digs Disney: frisky fun but not risky. Jazz Impressions of NY/ Jazz Impressions of Japan: this is a fine pair of lps, stretching the group into fresh tempos & exploring show tune or koto rhythms. Bach: this a much later work which shows the depth of Brubeck’s piano playing technique.


nano snacking

He recorded extensively & in many settings, from duets with Desmond, big band, symphonic & solo. The stand alone Young Lions & Old Tigers has him working with the likes of Roy Hardgrove, Joshua Redman, George Shearing etc with a great set of timeless jazz. I think one of the reasons his work remains timeless is that he resisted the rock-fusion of the 70 & 80 & stuck to his more traditional roots. Traditional but never passe.



“There comes a time in everyone’s life when changes must be made.”

Tanya Devour sniggered at the sign over the mirror. The girls were to stop there for one last glance before they hit the stage. The only thing she’d change in her life now was the number of steps from the dressing room to the stage. Save her legs a bit of travel.

‘Yeah Tanya! Devour us!’

Two tables of college boys greeted her as she stepped in to the spotlight. The lights dimmed and she went through the motions of her number. She plied her trade. What a turn of phrase. Sweat dripped down her back. The music creaked out of the speakers. She moved on all fours to one of the stage side tables to allow the men there a closer look, a whiff of her perspiration, a brisk touch of her flesh as they stuffed fives into her bra, her waist band. Good thing she had gone for the extra strong elastic. Saved her a fortune in replacement, that did. Bungee cords would be next to keep what she kept on on.

She strode to centre stage and bent with her butt pointed at the table of college boys.

‘Yeah, Tanya. Come over for a drink.’ The boys exploded into raucous laughter.

A drink! that would be a change, too. Not that she had ever wanted to have a drink with any of the yahoos who had become her fans. Her feet ached, there was the buzz of pain in her left calf that had persisted for the last week or so.

‘Good house,’ Triple D Cadadad adjusted her D’s in the mirror.

‘Same as always. Those footballers from U of G are here again.’

‘Yeah heard ‘em. It’s only you they come for.’

‘It’ll be a cold day in hell before any of them come for me.’

They laughed.

‘Can’t get over it Tanya.’

‘Over what?’

‘Honey you ain’t no big gal like me. What do they see in you?’

‘Their cocks.’ Tender Trap called over.

‘Oh yeah. Fat chance. Well I gotta get changed.’ Tanya pulled her stilettos off and walked to the dressing room.

Six other performers were there in various stage of readiness. Any of them could have gone on just as they were she thought. No one cares what you got on only what you got off so they can get off.

She pulled a bill from her g-string. It was a hundred, a c note! Well someone must have liked her after all. The sign of a real fan who wanted to put his mouth where his money was.


September 9, Wednesday – Hot Damn! It’s a Queer Slam – season 2 kick off – 7:30 p.m. The Supermarket – 268 Augusta Avenue, Toronto. I’ll be back in the judge’s seat 🙂



October 18, Sunday – feature: Cabaret Noir: Inner Child Sacrifice



November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo



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n0ir n0ir 7

Icy sidewalks (can we talk about the city’s war on pedestrians), subzero weather, storm warnings & even the Grammies didn’t keep people away from the February Noir. I’ve seen bigger houses for the show but regardless of size of the audience the talent on stage is always large.


After a round of dynamic open stagers – Philip Cairns (missing Anita Ekberg), Tracy Hamilton (romantic memory), myself (bitter/sweet romantic memories), Josh Goldstein (fast flow fever dreamer) – David Bateman gave us a fine set from his recent books, & also a lesson that being published isn’t the road to riches.

His monologue on the death of a lover starts ‘am I ready to write about you/two decades later’ – there is no time limit to grief – ‘you and someone like you dying inside me.’ The set was sprinkled with haiku ‘if there’s a kind of hush/all over the world/why can’t you shut up.’


A brief intermission was followed by Toronto’s Unexpected Bite: Regina Dentata as she explores the various forms of burlesque. To a great 007 theme remix she was captivating in an emerald green glitter gown that would have been perfect for the Grammies red carpet. Slinking through the audiences she drew a few lucky guys into her routine, doing a glove peel around the neck of one man (he may never wash that neck again:-) ). A sweet reveal and some dangerous derriere tease that made twerking look tame.

Special guest Dan Curtis Thompson took to the stage, indulging in banter with Regina as she changed behind the backstage curtain: ‘it’s not sex if it’s your brother.’ He did funny, romantic story telling (as opposed to stand-up) structured around irrational fears – balloons & falling in love – both of which are unavoidable – the need to tell someone you love them becomes literally like a balloon filling and about to burst.


By now the hands on the clock were pushing past 10 & it was time for me to head for home (thirty minutes via TTC) so I missed the bulk of Shikha Sehgal’s set – what I heard was, not surprisingly, excellent. Next month is Lizzie Violet’s Cabaret Noir’s 100th anniversary show – get there early if you expect a decent seat. https://www.facebook.com/events/871522222908961/


besides ‘a crown of #kisses’ http://wp.me/p1RtxU-13E I read




you owe me sixteen dollars

for that time

you forgot your wallet again

when you were taking me out to lunch –

you owe me for all those boring

comic Jim Carey movies

I had to see to keep you happy

while you refused to see anything

that I might have actually enjoyed –


you owe for the times

I’ve skipped seeing my friends

so I could be with you –

seeing lousy movies

you owe me

for never skipping your friends

to be with me –


you owe me for

never telling me that you loved me –

you owe me for the three weeks

I had the crabs

and had to wash every sheet in my house

and then had to wash all your sheets

you owe me

for the time I spent sorting your laundry

and folding it

and putting away

while you were too sick to do anything –


you owe me for the two trips to Montreal,

for the week-end in Niagara Falls –

you owe me for the the cd’s I lent

you to get burned

but which vaporized somewhere along the line –

you owe me for the computer virus

you though was so cute

but which ate not only my hard drive

but also my cat

and the house plant you bought me –

you owe me for the times you got off and I didn’t –

you owe me for the the five bounced checks –

you owe me for taking me for granted –


you owe me

for the free rental of my thoughts

and worries

when I could have been worrying

about things

that deserved my worry –

like the holes in the ozone

you made with oven cleaner –

you owe me for the starving children

in wherever the hell they are

because you made me look a that commercial

and send them money

and now I get photos

of even sicker kids every week –


you owe me

you owe me

for the broken ankle you got

falling down the stairs drunk –

you owe me for death of your parents –

you owe me for the bad season of the Walking Dead –

you me for updating your FB status

to ‘in a relationship’

and five minutes later

when you were supposed to be taking a shower

I saw you on Grindr

looking for NSA


you owe me for

the shitty attitude that waiters give me

when I go out to lunch on my own –

you owe me for the now lumpy mattress

I have to sleep on –

you owe me

for the time I found out

that you weren’t even human –

you don’t remember that do you –

well I do and you owe me for that

you inhuman prick –


you owe me big time

and will always owe me big time

and now it’s payback time

so get our your wallet

I mean cash

no more bounced checks


March 7 -Saturday – attending – 2015 Toronto SpecFic Colloquium – Round Venue, 152A Augusta Ave., Toronto



April 26 – Sunday – 2-5 – Featuring – The Secret Handshake Gallery – 170 Baldwin Ave., 2nd floor, Toronto.


June 5-7 – attending – Capturing Fire – Washington DC



(2015 registration posted but details not posted yet. I’ve registered already 🙂 )

June 21-26 – attending – Rosemary Aubert’s Workshop – Loyalist – Belleville


Loyalist Workshop is the real deal

(further info & links: TBA)

September 3-6 – attending – Fan Expo



October 18, Sunday – feature: Cabaret Noir: Deep Burlesque Hallowe’en




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Nasty Naughty Noir

Cabaret Noir blasts the chill away with laughs, burlesque and propulsive punk with its first show of 2015. After a set of great open stagers: Brenda Clews with winter reflections; D S Campbell with a snippet of his Twitter novel @ZombieManifesto; Josh Goldstein with a fine poetic flow: & TOpoet plugging the Sunday benefit show; Heather Macdonald (Twitter: @heather_mariko) hit the stage.


nasty dirty snowballs

Heather did a wide ranging set of stand-up comedy that went from warning signs that make he want to do what she’d never think of doing, Asian Flush (she’s part Asian so gets the flush half the time); Mennonite horse and buggies with modern car bucket seats and the kids in back playing Farmville on their iPhone6’s.


a shot of Whiskey crumbled this snowman

A sultry slinky Whiskey Winter did a temperature raising turn to Christina Aguilera’s Nasty Naughty Boy. Entering through the audience she treated the packed house to a polished tradition burlesque, flapping fringes, the tasty glove peel, glorious ass tease (is there a technical dance term for that move: pas du derrière?) – all of which left us wanting more.

Final feature Conflicting Plaid http://conflictingplaid.com/ lounge punk – were loud, fast, fun and energetic. Propelled by spot on jittery slippery guitar and bass, grounded by an excellent drummer lead singer Zed Dulac trampled through a batch of fun, short songs & some raucous covers. Sounding at times like early Elvis Costello, Eddie & the Hot Rods – the songs were moments of hot sex – those moments when you get in, get it done, get out before you wear out your welcome & everyone is satisifed. Glory would fit in on any Pansy Division cd. (the rest of the band: Ian Đaly Sean Macnab David Reichert)

snowfort (s)no(w) fort

With Nelson Sobral keeping the sound balanced it was a great set. By the end of the night the windows of the Central were so steamed up one couldn’t see in or out.



I did ‘pillow’ on the open stage: http://wp.me/p1RtxU-11a.

another drop 

the float of cups   spoons
moons   leaves
wet midnights broken by laugher
left to reflect on the puddles
red sticky slicks that caress the stage
invite the applause of over-hanging gaspers
soon to be disgraced with apologies
wondering not aloud

what if this isn’t the moment

to leap up once and for all get it over with
no beginnings only ends
only a bar counter to wipe ready
for weary prisoners to stop rest gripe
about the fairness of their sentence
how they deserve what they want
and they want it now piping hot
heaped dishes of freshly chopped
branches of moon strung stings
to replace the end of things
we all know that end is looming

than that pole-dancer’s ass that hovers
over your out-stretched glass
another drop pretty pretty please
please squeeze harder

we know you can do it
before the song changes
it has to be on that note
the universal choir
chasing clouds of notes around
looking for car keys put down in a hurry
your car running in the garage
who is in the back seat drifting
as the red slick sends
reflection of spoons to the moon
each prisoner barely turning
in their stools

are we up to guessing what comes next


snow what

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Hot February Noir Night

Cabaret Noir with another packed-to-the-rafters show managed to melt all the ice and snow for an area of two hundred meters around the Central with a super-charged show Sunday (Feb09). Lizzie draws from a vast pool of sexy sensations who are also exceptionally talented (is it pc to say sexy sensations?).

christinegoodbye to Christine

Regina Dentata (aka Regie) brought a sweet flirtatiousness to her well-honed, playful burlesque routines. Her first few were, for me, closer to modern dance but she did incorporate scarves and fans to bring in some traditional elements. Her final piece was a glittery gown traditional pieces – glove peel to black lace undies and pasties. Her choice of music was non-traditional – no show tunes or sax vamps but choice cuts by Skrillex and even I Hate Todd’s Zombie Love. Eye and ear delight. http://facebook.com/Lady.CocoD


I’ve heard Heather Babcock several times & each time am pulled into her emotionally complex writing. I like the way she combines direct sexuality with real situations and her use of dream logic transitions. A line like: ‘large hands slightly dirty as if fixing cars all day’ quickly gives us not only smell but a sense of who this person is. Read more by her on tumblr.  www.heatherrosebabcock.tumblr.com

spud?sweet street potato

I’ve also heard blueVenus more times than I can count & each time I am captivated by their stage presence, song writing & energetic performance. Andrea & accomplice Jessica Stewart did a fun and fierce set of great pop originals. Why aren’t these performers getting Juno nominations? Blue Venus is off to Australia next for a month long tour. check out their blog for some free downloads: http://www.bluevenusmusic.com

I did hit the open stage, but only to promote my up coming features at Plasticine this Sunday and Racket the following Friday. I’ll be doing two completely different sets – but more about that in my next blog post. 


Focus Pocus

In one corner Helen placed her left hand on top of the television. She raised her right arm toward the ceiling, not straight up but at a slight angle towards the north-east corner. In her hand she held the hollow copper rod with the amethyst crystal at one end and the hercimer diamond at the other.

‘I call on the forces of magnetism … I call on the grace of the permafrost … ’

The three others, James, Karl & David stood in the other corners. They joined her to intone the final line of the spell.

‘We call on the righteous spirit of fair weather and foul to bring us all the known channels of the universe, now.’

The lights in the room dimmed. There was darting flicker of blue in a thin static-like thread that flashed around to all of them from the tip of the copper rod.

Karl collapsed. Helen took her hand from the TV. The screen came back to life. It was an Italian game show. People dressed in sponges were trying to climb a waterfall. The sponges filled with water & slowed their progress. James was transfixed.

‘Thanks Helen.’ David shook Helen’s hand. ‘How much do we owe you for this one?’

‘Let’s see,’ Helen put her copper rod back into her tool box. She added up the changes on her fingers. ‘First the calling – that’s $125.00. The focus of elemental energies is another $50.’

‘$50!!’ David said. ‘It was only $25 the last time.’

‘Takes more energy each time it has to be done. This could be the last time though. Thanks to your, uh, sacrifice.’ She nudged Karl’s lifeless hand with her toe. ‘This should secure your cable for at least another five to six years.’

‘That long? Well, then it was worth it.’

‘You gotta see this.’ James had changed the channel to a Philippine soap opera. Two naked men were in a punch out beside a bed. On the bed was a weeping woman with a huge mane of black hair. ‘This is something else. Only Earth channels I suppose?’

‘Dunno about that,’ Helen snapped the locks on her tool box. ‘I did call on all the channels of the universe.’

bookseBooks in the flesh

Noir ‘teased our lips like raspberries’

Cabaret Noir kicked off its residency at its new location The Central with a take-no-prisoner’s line up that shows Lizzie Violet means business. As much as I like The Central, enjoy the great food & service I don’t understand why they insist on playing the house music so loud one has to shout to carry on a conversation – the louder people talked the louder the music became. At least one member of the audience put in ear plugs till the show started.

no longer a doorable
no longer a doorable

But that didn’t keep me from enjoying first feature Andrea Thompson who gave us what she called an ‘estrogen set.’ ‘Speaking in tongues of her own making’ she gave a juicy set of uplifting, self-affirming work that used ‘word possibilities that teased our lips like raspberries.’ Clever, funny, deeply emotional. Who hasn’t dealt with ‘guys with ex-girlfriends who still do their laundry.’

you look so a doorable in blue
you look so a doorable in blue

Frenchie Fatale, who graced Noir in June, was back by popular demand. She did a sensational fan routine to Perhaps (this is not the version Frenchie used but wow! what a version). She was followed by some open-stagers – including Supertash debuting her new, soon to be, hit single Tight Buns.

not a doorable either
not a doorable either

The show wrapped with a fine set by Hugh Wilson of strongly structured, emotionally compelling songs about relationships (‘there is no love without fear’), the longing for safety & friendship. Dancing after Midnight had a propulsive chorus that called for a larger space to fully expand but drew us all in and had the crowd adding hand-claps without prompting.

Check out Lizzie’s photos.


my coming attractions
my coming attractions

June 6-8, 2014 – attending – Bloody Words


writing sample
writing sample

The piece I read at Noir, another of the #Mercy series

To clothe the naked


there was this guy


on the subway platform

shoes and socks

and a shoulder bag

shoulder rubbed red by the strap

‘nice shoes’ I said.

he glanced down ‘oh my god! I’m naked!’

apparently he wasn’t aware

of leaving his place with nothing on

but his shoes and socks


‘sorry’ I said. ‘didn’t mean to alarm you’

he covered his cock with his ereader

‘this is a dream?” he asked

‘not mine.” I replied. ‘did you have an exam this morning’

“what’ he asked.

‘naked dreams are often caused by stress

you know

getting to school for an important exam

and realizing you have no pants on’

‘no no. I was fully clothed when I left my place.’



I glanced to see if anyone noticed

I saw a naked woman

adjusting her baby in a stroller

her round ass poised in the air



I got on the subway car

there were more nearly naked people there

men women various ages and sizes

I wasn’t sure where took

they glared back at me

sneering at my clothing

as if I was the one doing something untoward



when I wished for more nudity

this isn’t what I had in mind

I only wanted certainly people


certainly no one over sixty

to see that future is to awful to contemplate

there ought to be a law

so that public nudity is limited

only to those who are buff enough

not to be an offense to the eye



how could anyone think

that being seen in public dressed like that

says anything positive about themselves


it gives a slightly dangerous


by now totally dull vibe

of I don’t give a fuck

what anyone thinks about me

while at the same time it says

I don’t care about myself either


when wearing what brings attention

why get pissed

people bother with you

because of their shallow

response to the surface of what you wear

why get pissed because that surface judgment

makes them take you for something you aren’t


you don’t want to be part of a culture

that judges so much by the cover

well honey

that’s how it is

if you don’t like attracting that type of attention

stop dressing to attract it




don’t get undressed on my account

I’m sure you are more appealing naked

or is that just another way

of objectifying you


how do we remove the personality from the body

ah, that’s what the internet is for

thanks for the dick pics

keep on dancing
keep on dancing

The Super-Cool Tura Satana

What better way to deal with the hot hot hot days that are ending August here in Toronto than some super cool movies starring Tura Satana. Some of you may think I’m stretching things by saying ‘starring’ but trust me even in a bit part Tura is the star.

gone gone boots
gone gone boots

The best parts of the Russ Meyer bio ‘Big Bosoms and Square Jaws’ are the ones dealing with Tura and the filming of Faster Pussycat, which was the first film of her’s I knowingly saw. I had seen Irma la Duce before this but when I recently saw it again I was tickled and thrilled to see Tura in it & re-watched her moments.

But the film of her’s that I most enjoy is The Astro-Zombies. I first saw this when it showed up on late-night TV. The print quality of our VHS recorded version even then was dark & fuzzy but her scenes jumped out clearly. Her dresses, jump suits were perfection. Putting her cigarette out on a captive was sublime  & for weeks after I was asking people I knew ‘Who are you?’ trying the get that weird accent she used. Needless to say I was thrilled to get a decent DVD version of it at Fan Expo a few years ago.

building cleavage
building cleavage

I saw The Doll Squad first at the festival of B-Films – sort of an A-Team made up of tough, pretty, women in fetching cat suits who thwart evil. Tura is part of this team and once again gets the best clothes and the best lines. She get to opportunity to do a bit of emoting as well and that made me wish she’d been given the opportunity to be more than the busty, ultra-tough, pretty butch babe. I picked a DVD of this as Fan Expo – it has some nice extras.

doll squad secret head quarters?
doll squad secret head quarters?

Her films all make use of her ample cleavage and her burlesque skills. Faster Pussycat established her as the iconic girl you don’t want to mess with but sadly no other director was able to develop her or even this bold image of womanhood. Honey West, Mrs. Peel, pale in comparison.

writing sample
writing sample

Lament for Anna Nicole

in the beginning was the word

and the word was blonde

a blonde who came striding

out of the sweet morning light

assured radiant reaching out

past the flock of photographers

to bring tender mercies to the world

a blond who hid fears frustration

in the twinkling wink of an eye

ready and ripe

to be a distraction for the world

here is the blonde

the unattainable firm force of nature

on every tv magazine cover front page

all pondering the ways and wiles

of the soft hearted blonde

who will be next

who was the last tail twist

in the trail of broken hearts

we follow our noses nailed to her scent

this glowing example

of what the ordinary can rise to

billionaires reality shows

who cares about cancer

when we have the blonde

a rare creature of fine design

who can invade dreams

wrap legs around broken hearts

lead us out of loneliness

by taking on all our loneliness

in a single furtive glance

away from the camera

a single shunning of the lime light

for a moment that blesses us all

the blonde reeling and recoiling

teetering on stilettos

from the press of press

the lurch of bully boy interviewers

who want to expose the gold digger

the drug addled bimbo

to show the world that the blonde

is no saint merely another floozy

chunky top heavy flabby doll

lucky to be in our sanctifying gaze

the blonde gratefully accepts each slight

by each slight she is elevated

what comes next

what can be sacrificed now

there is no reputation left

the first born has been cut down

the blonde has been shuffled off

in a shapeless body bag

leaving the newborn

a wash in a sea of who’s your daddy

our father ?

is this the way the world ends

not with a bang

but a paternity test

bouquet in snow
bouquet in snow



Noir Flaunts It

not getting into my drawers
not getting into my drawers

Lizzie Violet’s June Noir officially kicked off summer with a night of sizzling poets, musicians, & burlesque to a packed and eager audience. First feature Ellie Anderson stepped out from behind her guitar with a warm set of poems. She openly shares her struggles with fame, body image & sexuality without letting politics or anger get in the way. At times playful: ‘I would find June in the middle of winter’ –  at times ironic ‘I would sell my integrity at half price to those who can raise me to the right hight’ – at times heartbreaking ‘on the day I met you it snowed – I didn’t know till then how could love could be.’

not sleeping together
not sleeping together

Next up was Blue Venus – traffic delays didn’t faze them. Andrea, with guitarist Jessica Stuart, did a fine summery set of original work. Their sound is refreshing without losing emotional impact. A jazzy bounce supports each piece. Andrea’s warm vocal and fine violin playing give Venus a distinct sound. Jessica adds a frisky guitar style that would fit into Paris jazz spots in the 30’s.

Final, official features, Frenchie Fatale did a simmering turn to When You Got It, Flaunt It. She’s got it and knows how to flaunt it in fine burlesque style – ending with a some traditional tassel twirling – like all good burlesque she left us wanting more.

not even sitting together
not even sitting together

After the features we were treated to an extended open stage hosted by Blanche (David Bateman) to celebrate Kate’s (morecowbell) birthday. I did a couple of pieces but sadly had to leave by 10:30 so I missed the final performers.

on stage Noir June 2013
on stage Noir June 2013