Felix Dowsley pulled double-duty at the •Chance Operations• reading on May 10. Felix not only played drums with the jazz trio Udi's Refugees, who provided music throughout the evening, but also read the following poem during the open mic portion of the evening.
The next •Chance Operations• will be Monday, June 14, and Monday, July 26, at Duff's in the Central West End. Doors will open at 7:30 p.m. on both evenings.
Featured readers for June 14 are Gena Brady Allen, Eileen G'Sell, and Stefene Russell. Interested readers may sign-up for the open mic first come-first serve at the reading.
Sadie sauntered quick as Gradle glowered
on reddened steps still slick with lapping sun,
heading east towards Riddles on the Loop.
Her counsel burbled on sententiously,
an octave lower than when they'd talked wine.
How long, thought gliding Gradle, will the bitch
pretend to care for my sure sanity when
all she wants is him?
buzzed her back. The interrupting synapse
brought the past as pleasure slamming to
the beat of Patrick bouncing on his car
(the dents he never fixed of course) and chanting
"pick me! pick me!"
She spoke again, "Of course you must protect
yourself and look to your own happiness,"
and as she spoke the shadow of a crow
dipped softly, smote her face, and then flew west.
Greg and I sat drinking forties on
our balcony, trying to guess if a
crow perched above the lot was hungry, hunting
pussy, or bequeathed with some profounder
purpose. "What if it's a portent?" giggled Greg.
Sadie gurgled mucus and rough coughed
a caw-aw-ah. The necking muscles rippled
as she bent to kiss quivering lips.
They were cold but she'd enjoy them later.
He murmured something inarticulate
through his plastic Popov vodka dreams
and choked a little. Sadie put on lipstick,
firmly pressed her mouth again his cheek,
and shut the door so quietly behind her.
-- Felix Dowsley