I actually LOVE cold weather, so don't even think it works as an excuse with me.
Sarah Fridrich and my Warm-Blooded Backup Band
busboys and poets.
2021 14th street (1 blk from U Street)
wednesday.
9pm.
$10
http://www.busboysandpoets.com
http://sarahfridrichcalendar.blogspot.com (news, pics, and music)
http://www.sarahfridrich.com (official site)
Here's a snapshot and a nice review by blogger "Prince of Petworth" of a show I got to participate in at BloomBars in the Petworth/Columbia Heights Neighborhood of D.C. this past August.
2 poems
POEM 1: i was just singing
but all they do is small
all they do is droop their heads
ask me for a drink
offer me their insides
but I did not invite them to my yard
sprinkle themselves along my steps
I was just singing
that I do for me
I was glowing with the sun
in quite an ordinary way
like puddles do in potholes
like shovels at the hardware store
like metal on a cadillac
like curtains facing west
what they see is innocent
what they see is in no cent
what they see or feel is
of sweet acceptance
POEM 2:
for something like family
I'm sad that the one I really liked
would ask me back that night
my sister was a voice from love
and what she said was right
so, don't cry those tears as if
a chance was lost
for God or Fate has
given something necessary
and taken what is not
a man in love
a man who knows
without a bit of doubt
If there ever was a witch
I'd ask her for a favor
I'll write the spell
you cast it, for I am superstitious
"And, what for? what for?" she'd ask,
curious but not ignorant
for something like family
for something like mating
for something like a human
for something earthy, like humis
"Oh, but not for love and youth
and spiritual bliss?"
but all they do is small
all they do is droop their heads
ask me for a drink
offer me their insides
but I did not invite them to my yard
sprinkle themselves along my steps
I was just singing
that I do for me
I was glowing with the sun
in quite an ordinary way
like puddles do in potholes
like shovels at the hardware store
like metal on a cadillac
like curtains facing west
what they see is innocent
what they see is in no cent
what they see or feel is
of sweet acceptance
POEM 2:
for something like family
I'm sad that the one I really liked
would ask me back that night
my sister was a voice from love
and what she said was right
so, don't cry those tears as if
a chance was lost
for God or Fate has
given something necessary
and taken what is not
a man in love
a man who knows
without a bit of doubt
If there ever was a witch
I'd ask her for a favor
I'll write the spell
you cast it, for I am superstitious
"And, what for? what for?" she'd ask,
curious but not ignorant
for something like family
for something like mating
for something like a human
for something earthy, like humis
"Oh, but not for love and youth
and spiritual bliss?"
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