Ooh, ooh, sorry sorry. Been busy, which explains the late arrival of this bulletin from the front lines of my kitchen.

 

The Disparate Housewives, my poetry duo, did a fun set as part of The Hothouse, a performance night with only female poets performing. It was at the Cross Kings - in yes, Kings Cross - was very well attended and a lot of fun was had by all of us. A different energy onstage with just women. I wouldn’t say ‘better’, but you know, just different. The Cross Kings is a lovely place. It’s a bit like gigging in your own very large front room. Wall hangings, sofas, chocolate brownies. I took my daughter Tamar along to do the sales table (and she sold about four books the whole evening I think, but let me not rant on about book sales at readings again - I sold SEVEN at the Troubadour the other night). Tamar thought I was mostly cute onstage, but a bit cheeky too. Gig went well. Both myself and my partner, Stella, had a good time after our usual hard, but entertaining day of rehearsal. Bed at 1.30 am meant that the following night I was asleep by 9. So much for the rock’n’roll lifestyle.

 

Going chronologically backwards, The first anniversary reading for The Shuffle last Saturday was absolutely packed out. The line-up of course was unparalleled and the pamphlet ‘The Shuffle Anthology’ is beautiful. A snip at £5.00 and packed with poetic treasures. Here’s to another year of fine readings at the po cafe.

 

My gig at the Troubadour, where I unveiled my pink pamphlet was a success too. I love that microphone. It really works! You just need to stand near it to be heard, not kiss it continually while you’re reading. And as I said, I sold seven pamphlets, which rather invalidates the comments on my last blog.

 

Magma, which I am assistant editing is almost off to the printers, and as well as some damn fine poetry, it has some prose articles including one by me about poetry in education. Bloody hard work writing articles. An under-used part of the brain.

 

One of these days I’ll actually get around to sending some poems out to magazines myself again. Haven’t done that for a while, and as my dear mate Alex puts it, you’ve got to be in it it win it.

 

Tonight I’m off to hear that icon of folk icons, Joan Baez at the Albert Hall. Tra-la-la and toodle-oo then. I promise the next blog will be in time. Please come back!