WEDNESDAY NIGHT LIVE PERFORMANCES

at the QMU from toadinmud.co.uk

We invite you to come and be entertained:

POETRY, PROSE, DRAMA, MUSIC and etc.

LIVE WRITING PERFORMANCES and OPEN MIC,
The Lacuna Cafe
Queen Margaret Union (the QMU)
Wednesday 07th Feburary 2007
8pm prompt(ish).

You may have heard about it already. If you haven’t, now you know and come along. And if you have, where are you?

Our “Writer’s Wednesday” is an event aiming to provide a venue for new and current writers to perform their works and for others to be entertained by new talent. In the past few months we have featured guests; Liz Lochhead, Alan Bisset and Alan Riach and hope to invite them back and others in the near future.

As informal and unpretentious as we are capable of being, anyone of any discipline and perceived talent is encouraged to come along and perform. Either by prior arrangement or on an open mic basis. If you are not a writer yourself then we invite you to come along and enjoy the performances. We begin at 8pm and usually perform for around an hour and a half, there is coffee (discounted), snacks and of course, beer and stronger beverages available for purchase. You should expect some form of “audience participation”, with the chance of prizes for creative effort. This is not compulsorary of course. Afterwards we retire downstairs to discuss the performances, or play pool.

If you do wish to perform on Wednesday night, contact us at this address (toad@toadinmud.co.uk) giving as little or as much detail as you like. (Number of works, number of lines in works, estimate length of performance etc.) If you prefer, contact me, Tom Coles, on 0792 635 0161. If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to ask.

We also run a website, www.toadinmud.co.uk featuring works from Wednesday Nights and else where, check the site for performance times and upcoming events, as well as seeing what the writers are producing. On the site you can also hear Podcasts (audio downloads) of previous performances.

Yours sincerely,

Tom Coles

toad@toadinmud.co.uk

No use calling to the dune
for reinforcements -
There are none,
but whistle,
and I’ll come

No use clawing
through mud and sand
in search of sinking treasures,
your fingers black like Fagin’s,
but whistle, my
lad, and I’ll come

I am passed from ear
of shell to ear
of shell, and if
you train your telescopes
on distant, dead stars,
no one will answer,
no hurricane shall come
but stone
Stone and slum-
ber

Find the camera obscura
on Constitution Hill
or trace a Norfolk beach in March
to where the sea has eaten
like a clever lover
up to the mouth of graves

Ramble, my boy, and rifle. Now
venture, like Holmes in his gloves
Eye, finer than needle,
Whistle
and I will come,
and lay,
lay you, hum-
ble

By all means carry
the silver
hip-flask
to cool the coals of your heart,

to numb.

But whistle,
just once,
and I will come.