My weekend trip to Paris funded by a poetry competition award is coming up! I’m hoping for a chance to read poetry at Spoken Word Paris and Shakespeare&Co. as well as visit Père Lachaise Cemetery for Oscar Wilde, Marcel Proust and other role models, but it’s probably best to not make too many plans and see where the adventure takes me.
Tomorrow’s treat for poetry and cabaret fans: The Fainting Couch, a show organised by the gorgeous burlesque artist Elsie Diamond, will take place at the Queen of Hoxton (near Old Street Station). It looks to be a fascinating mix of burlesque, comedy, poetry and song. I’ll unfortunately miss the beginning of the show as I’m going to the BFI at the Southbank Centre for Welcome to the Dark Side, a panel discussion on the Gothic. The BFI website promises this will “fire the darkest parts of your imagination” – exactly what I’ve been looking for.
I’ll be missing this as well, as my Friday will be spent on a runaway Megabus, but Paper Tiger Poetry’s Halloween Special on the 25th at the Tea House Theatre will be worth going to. The show is organised by Alain English and this month’s show features Tom Bland and Ernesto Sarezale. Tom’s an obvious choice for a Halloween Special since his poetry is famous for being rather obsessed with death; Ernesto is best known as the Naked Poet and host of erotic literary soirée Velvet Tongue (which is a great event but the next one will clash with Until the Light Goes Out, so I’m not going to advertise or anything). Nudity is therefore guaranteed on Friday night, but in case Tom also strips off, you must lie to me and say he didn’t. It’s already devastating enough to be missing this.
I’ll be back in London just in time for Halloween and my costume will be the scariest: I’ll be the blonde lady from ABBA, sparkly 80s clothes and all, singing Dancing Queen in karaoke*.
I’ve got a few gigs coming up in November but self-promotion is tedious so check out the My Gigs section if you want to see me perform for some reason.
*This isn’t actually going to happen, unless I get very, very drunk, which would make it all the more scary.