A Call to Save the Poetic Ta-Tas: Come for the Tit, Stay for the Lit

I promised in the last post more on the epic pseudo-Valentine's Day gift that landed at my feet on February 13. And I still promise to share that shortly...

...after this glorified appearance announcement posing as a blog post. (Look, I'm ashamed. Just please forgive me.) Today's shameful self-promo moment is for a mammary-heavy reading myself and poet Hannah Miet will be featured at this Sunday, February 20. The event starts at 4pm and runs just over an hour at 308 Bowery, NYC, with booze available before, during and after.

Promise: This week's event will include a poem about hating poetry readings, live banjo, a hipster-friendly piece about riding rusty bicycles through New Orleans, at least one poet on prescription drugs after minor surgery, one Tony-Award winning surprise guest and, by popular demand, the return of Mick Jagger's Shirts.

For those of you who hate poetry (and, PS: if you do, you must have landed here via Google Images while searching for pictures of Mick Jagger. In which case you must be really frustrated by now.), give us a chance to prove you wrong.

Back story: Last month, George Wallace and Russ Green of the famed/infamous Bowery Poetry Club were deranged enough to let an unknown writer with an un-notable blog take the stage at Beat Hour as a featurette. They rewarded my not falling off the stage, throwing up, or reading a poem about my uterus by inviting me back for the series' February installment as a top-heavy top-liner. (I feel obligated after titling this post the way I did to continue making breast references.)

Beat Hour's always a blast, but this one is particularly hard to beat because three of its four featured performers are women (a rare occurrence at readings not organized by womens' groups)--cheers to Wallace and Green for making room for the ladies. In addition to Miet and myself, Jane Rosenberg Laforge will also be at the mic spitting out vivid visuals, and there's an open mic for you soon-to-be featurettes. (PS: Don't forget Ed Stever, as well as George and Russ, holding it down for the men-folk.) With one cheap ticket and as many cheap drinks as you like, you can help fight the good fight for both tits with pens and the continuation of the literary world at large.

A closing promise: There will be zero earnest poems about uteri, ovaries or menstrual cycles.

Hope to see you there. More details here: Beat Hour at Bowery Poetry, February 20, 2011.

(**Note: No breasts were harmed in the making of this post. The Trouble With Poet does not encourage the baring of bosoms during poetry readings...though we do not necessarily discourage it either.**)