LONESOME REVOLUTION

On the first night of our first date I said a few choice, disconnected words to my husband that have stayed with us, in our humor as a couple: our inside jokes, our twelve years of smirks and smiles and sex and rage that make a marriage, or at least make ours. Prehensile, for his long first toes, and revolution.

I meant turn in a circle. He thought I meant revolt.

Join me and the very best of LONESOME PRESS this Monday March 16th, at the Georgia Room for an intimate performance of poetry and music among friends, as we do, as we must do, despite the certainty surrounding us of impending collapse. (rsvp 03.16.26 Door: 6pm Performance: 7pm 23 Lexington at 23rd street, floor 2)

My dear husband Ethan Sklar, who once had a band called Slumber, will play a short set. We’ll be joined by Ilka Scobie, her onetime student JR Castener, our pushcart prize nominee Ingrid Jacobsen, Francine, a jet-lagged walk-on from America Murphy, and Uche Nduka, a fabulous poet I met a few weeks ago at Bowery Poetry Club with Jeff Wright and Live Mag! That night I read this poem, newly published in BigCityLit. Please read, knowing I share it with a loving heart.

See you Monday.

Until then, here’s us singing a cappella in great acoustics last fall:

Should we sing it Monday? It is, at present, not on the menu. Be honest! You know how I am voting.

Share