“Last Sunday” Poetry Reading Precedes New Cold Snap; Bones, a Lagniappe

The local Upstart Poets readings (cf. September 23, et al.) are, unfortunately, a thing of the past, but a new reading series has sprung up this year, the Last Sunday Poetry Reading & Open Mic, that may replace it.  And so this afternoon, on the swiftly passing weekend of relatively warm weather preceding tomorrow’s below-zero forecast, off I went to the Bloomington Monroe County Convention Center for its premiere manifestation.  The format was similar to that of Upstart Poets, two featured poets reading first — at this outing local poets Nandi Comer, Poetry Editor of INDIANA REVIEW among other honors, and multi-published and Indiana University Bloomington Libraries Website Editor (plus rock ‘n’ roll mavin) Anne Haines — followed by 3-minute mini-readings by whoever wanted to step up to the mike (in my case, with two vampire poems from DISTURBED DIGEST, “It Would Be Wrong” and “The Specialist,” cf September 23, et al., and one werewolf poem, “In the Company of Wolves,” from BLOODBOND, November 29).  In all, I’m not sure it quite replaces Upstart Poets which, with its “People’s Bar” setting, may have been both a bit more informal and edgier, but it came pretty close — as well as, in time, most likely developing its own personality.

Last Sundays are sponsored by the Bloomington Writers Guild (and not to be confused with mostly-prose First Sundays, for which see January 5, et al.), which also occasionally publishes short stories and poems by member-writers on its website, several of which have been by me.  And so, in celebration of our bone-chilling weather, why not revisit one now as a lagniappe?  “Bones, Bones, the Musical Fruit” appeared on the Writers Guild site on August 19 2011, having been originally published in BONE BALLET (Iguana Publications, 2005).  It is also one of the shortest stories in my collection THE TEARS OF ISIS, for more on which press here, and so for those interested in (as it were) a kind of sneak peek — or just for the pleasure — can be read by pressing here.

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  1. “Bones, bones, the musical fruit” — I but shudder at the thought! Yet your little flash makes it such dark “fun”! Bravo, Jim! (chuckle!)




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