Tag Archives: Paris


but it’s no use
he thinks

to count among the friends
and relatives
who were lucky enough
to walk through the hinges of
someone else’s history

it’s no use
to live the life
as if the life
was the only life

it’s no use
to be afraid

it’s no use
to spill coffee on the floor
to break a pencil
to drink a can of oil
to claw at one’s shoulder
to picture Yeats’ tomb

it’s no use
to live the life
as if the life
was the only life

it’s no use
he mutters

is there still use
for a clogged throat

is there use
for a mechanical heart

is there use
in yellow saliva

is there use
if we still find the poem



I have no words
on offer
to offer

are so many of them
words everyday
but today

there is but only
no key holes
for any one
to strap onto

and turn
your arm into a wound
of importance a wound
of actually being there

no wound to tell
if some one bled
no wound to tell
if some one bred

no wound
to tell the living
from the dead

path words lead
no where not
even dead ends

words uncovered will
help covering
the burial

not today

SpokenWord 28.10.13 – Grand Guignol

So yeah.

That was great.

SpokenWord Paris

Report by David, with aid from Melissa’s notes. Photos by Sabine.

Bob Hill was going grey from the neck up. Gaelle Molly (keyboard) sang the solution to you. Evan’s familiar ligtening filled his every molecule… he was a drop of ink in an unused pen. Godefroy was a mute child in grown-up clothes. Kevin’s horse-rider girlfriend stole the show. Antonia described when Death was a little boy. John conducted the audience – FACT! Featured reader Pansy Maurer-Alvarez (of Poets Live) danced with her shadow, wanted their first words back. (From her book “When the body says it’s leaving.”)

Dareka hailed the great ball of fire. Alberto was slapped repeatedly with a lobster. Gabriel’s flesh moved. Jerry Flemming recorded a spike in those who take themselves out of the world. Victor lingered on Lu Read’s pale blue eyes, calypso style. David Kerridge found a good wall for shooting people against. Pansy…

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