Just got news that the Cabaret Pop will be closed Monday for Toussaints and so there will be no SpokenWord that day. :-( Next SpokenWord will be 8th November.
Apologies for late notice, the Cabaret Pop only just informed me.
If you're looking for something to do, Shakespeare & Co - the bookshop that never sleeps - have a reading that night link
Photos: Jonathan, Laura Mullen, Various Members of the Public...
Dylan Harris' tally was 2 U-boats and a minky, in a slippery light. Jonathan worked on a whole host of issues. Strange, fragmentary poems. Lily saw blindness, ratification, killing killing killing. Jen Dick sent out spies to every corner of the globe. Alberto reported the death of a slammer. Izzy, a South African poet stranded in Paris, woke up on Redemption Street. Laura Mullen reported on how the war is affecting the Oscars ceremony, and Various Sore Subjects. Flo was ni l'un ni l'autre. Probably still is. Jérémie a parlé à la lune, la voie lactée. La nuit c'est autre chose, un théatre magique... Maxx is generally more worried than married. Suzanne dropped stars into the skillet, they spattered and hopped... Don't call Bibu maladroit. And Michélé saw inedible traffic lights. Time for his breakfast on the transatlantic wheel.
By Suzanne Allen
If you want to change your name, you have
to change your friends too. People who know you,
see you, need you to be one thing, have a hard time
calling you another. They need something
to hold onto, something to set their clocks by, some
way to remember where
in their little black books they put you.
They need something from you that,
probably, you can’t give them. They might ask
for the spelling of your new name, but have a hard
time remembering it when they introduce you
to other people. They will stammer, explain who
you used to be as if this
memory were more true than you, standing there
in the foyer, waiting for them to correct themselves.
They will tell stories about your last husband
or your next one, your old car, the time
you drove off with your skirt hanging out,
dragging in the street. They might even remember
the colors—the orange and magenta flowers
or the shiny black paint job that they could see
themselves in when you parked at their curb. But
in general, they will have a hard time
remembering. You will have to remind
yourself that you are not who they remember,
that you probably
never were, and that the whole friendship need not
be written off as an illusion. It was only a time
in your life when you were more like them
than you are now. And it made everyone happy
to believe, for a little while, that they
knew you, when in fact, they only
knew you when.
Lovely Spokenworders got together for this mid-October’s episode, as usual in Belleville.
Marie Claire Calmus was in the house, Dylan Harris, in the house, the house is Culture Rapide Cabaret Populaire, Eric De Jesus, visiting from Philadelphia was in the house too.
Check out his myspace:
Bounch of poets.
Even the bartender was performing his verses:
“Elle fait l’eour de l’horloge
Veut à tout prix prendre le large
S’aidant de quelques arpèges
Pour oser tournee la page.”
Troy was there:
“Punching you on the face is fulfilling.”
And Caesar, Alexa, Miss Peacock, Nicolas, Magalì,
The psichedelic brainwasher Michele, Chris to the Newens, and Benjamin,
Bibù, Natascha from Russia, and Tyler:
“The debris of our collision seems to have been tidied.
Heat and noise have come to occupy your place.
Deceived again by my dreams, I surrender myself back to sleep.
It is there, after all, that you seem to exist.”
The Maxx, and to close the night, Suzanne.
She’s one of the Spoken Word’s favorites. We gonna miss her.
See you soon.
Or to use Alexa’s word:
“She brings out the best in me
We like ze wine and ze chat ah oui oui oui!!!
she’ll always be true blue to me
Cuz she’s a solid gold girl, a California Girl like me.
She’s a California sunset in Paris…
a star in the noontime sky
a taco full of laughter in a coffee shop in Amsterdam
a short ride on a long rollercoaster at midnight
Forever Bopping on
Hopping on the metro to the next dream…
See you soon Golden girl.”
- Alexa Rutherford dedicated to Suzanne Allen.
It's me! It's me!Knowing it's him, she hangs up.My life has a superb castbut I just can't figure out the plot.The autumn mosquitoReady for deathStings me.
Tim specializes in poetry with eyebrows, angles and glances:
...while Kate knows that only 6 minutes of normal time remain. Then it gets weird.
Amy Dalton: online, on edge:
Other highlights included: Dylan's unsung contraptions & night spiders. Where's the blind watchmaker now? Mandoline: everyone love-hates a winter clown. They've coined the chemistry of love. Chris: Letters to a Young Poet (Rilke) Alberto: rolling and clanging under the bridges of Paris, a story of 2 who jumped off the bridge and onto a bateau mouch. Troy: last stop on the cuckoo car. Maxx: There is no 'If' (Robert Smith)