Several of us had the opportunity to participate in a delightful soiree on Sunday. The evening consisted of a wide variety of performances.
The Chair playing his hurdy-gurdy with the first act, a trio of old-timers playing favourite songs from their youth. After this the Chair became the master of ceremonies, introducing the other acts with his usual wit and charm.
As a regular at these soirees, I usually do a solo performance of some kind, but for once I took a back seat and did a whistling harmony and counter melody accompaniment for two folks who do lovely Kate Bush covers.
Conch Shell was there, but like here, she stayed in the audience.
Then there was Coyote. He read a selection of some of his more popular poetry. He started with two of his emo poems, then went dramatic with Yelling for Stella (dedicated to me of course), and closed with a breathless Straight Eight.
And after the show, it became obvious that our furry friend doesn't need an online dating service. He just needs to get out and read his poems in front of eligible babes. One little honey sat down next to him and started telling him that his poetry held thoughts she had but didn't know how to express. While her boyfriend was in the same room.
I'm told that another woman who may or may not be attached poetically said, "that Coyote is just my type. I'd like to jump his bones."
