I read, last night, at the Twilight Tales annual drum event.  Things went well.


The drummers (Richard Engling and Eric Cartier) did a really great job.  There were fewer people at this year’s event, I was told, than previous years and so we readers ended up reading several times.  I had only brought one poem, but managed to pull out some other works from my bag.  I did not have much poetry with me (and indeed I don’t write that much poetry) but luckily I have a lot of very short prose pieces and luckily much of my prose, delivered correctly, sounds like poetry.


READING WITH DRUMMERS IN THE BACKGROUND IS COOL!  See how excited I was just to mention it?  I spoke in all caps.


Everyone seemed to really like my stuff.  I read:


“Poe Goes to the Singles Bar” [my lewd use of “The Conqueror Worm” got a nice reaction]

“In Embryo”

“The Cook Book”

the Prologue to Souls Unsure



I never would have thought to stick the Souls Unsure prologue with drums . . . but it really worked.  The drummers really got into it and I really got into it and that reading showed me that the pace of the piece really worked as I got really emotional reactions.  The drummer was still banging away when I finished saying, “Alright!  Man!  Man!  You are the man!  That was a gas.”  And then he made barking noises (which I’ll take as an omen of success).  When I sat down, I heard one of the people in the audience whisper, “Who’s going to want to have to follow that?”


Saying it felt good would be an understatement.


Nick and I talked with the drummers, who also run a theatre company, after the readings.  Nick got to find out various details on plays and auditions and I got told that my work has some great “cadence” and that I’m a very good reader.  One of the drummers, Rich, said that the sound of the piece (the prologue) was so good that he got lost with the actual narrative meaning because he got so into the rhythm of it.


T’was a good night.


A few nights ago I saw an independent short film called Six-String Samurai.  Awesome flick.  It was on my cousin’s On Demand (he had a list of various short films from some festival to watch).  The premise is wonderfully absurd (early in the cold war, Russia nuked the US turning it into a post apocalyptic nightmare and most of the country is ruled by the red army, but there is a free kingdom in Lost Vegas where Elvis was crowned king, and not, fourty years later the King is dead and every sword wielding, guitar playing samurai is headed for Vegaus to have a shot at getting crowned kin] but they just go with it and it works.  Basically, in this wasteland nightmare, musicians are also sword wielding warriors, both go hand in hand (which isn’t a concept that’s too-too crazy as it jives with the old notion of the Troubadour knights).  The ridiculous concept is great because it allows for some great images – the hero of the story (though it’s never explicitly said) is Buddy Holly . . . but Buddy Holly with a worn samurai sword, cracked glasses, tattered suit, and guitar strapped to his back, traveling the wastes to go to his “gig in Vegas” so he can compete to be king.  Any movie that allows a samurai Buddy Holly to fight hords of enemies (savages, a cannibal spoof of the “nuclear family”, killer bowlers, and Russians).  Buddy even fights Death himself, in the climax (which really becomes a struggle between dying classic rock and heavy metal).


I recommend this movie (if you can find it).


I went to a very dismal Sox game last week, but I did get to wear my new sports jersey.  I’ve never owned one before, but it seemed to suit me and, if you glance really fast, it could be mistaken for a Sox jersey.  Here are some pics, compliments of Torrie: