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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )

day-after-a-great-creative-event blahs

Waiting for the audience beneath Chiplis neon art display – foto Smith

Got the day-after-a-great-creative-event blahs.

It’s inevitable . . . I work myself up for a reading or art show, they turn out great, I feel fulfilled, light, spacious for the rest of the day, then wake the next morning as everyday human with no event, no audience, no hey-gang-let’s-get-together-and-put-on-a-show.

Rather like the postpartum blues, only my children are ephemeral hours-only creatures who slink off to Yesterville as soon as the mic and lights are turned off and the doors locked.

But at least they linger in folk’s memory minds, affected hearts, my own accomplished columns, and FaceBook fotos posted by folk I often don’t know.

Some folk were thinking Poetry at Pat’s in the Flats was my gig. Not so. I was just the lucky selected Master of Ceremonies. In fact this was the first one of these things where I didn’t read my own poetry, except for briefly reciting Grease Your Grill while one poet who’d ridden his bicycle 20 miles in from Willoughby had to get a drink to whet his poetic whistle before performing.

No . . . found-neon sculptor Jeff Chiplis and Brandt Gallery owner Jean Brandt were talking after the Sacred Pulp poetry reading Lady and I organized in March; they saw how much fun I had as MC and decided to find me another gig. They both know Pat from Pat’s in the Flats since the 1980s and thought of her place. Jean pretty much set up all the logistics and suggested the musicians while I found the poets with the help of Lady K.

It was a great time, great place, with one of the most power-packed open mic lists I’ve encountered. Fun and populous enough to do again in 3 months.

I’ve found when reciting Grease Your Grill (especially from memory when there’s more physicality in my ununciation), the ladies always laugh more than the men when I say “Lady let me lick your lime,” and the whole room always breaks out in laughter at the last line.

Grease Your Grill

I’m an oven cleaner baby
Come to scrub your grill
Yes this oven loving man
Mean to steam your grill
Get the heat back baby
Flame and fire the thrill

I’ll rub your rust off lady
Get your grid to shine
Rid this mood of maybe baby
Lady let me lick your lime
Make much meat that might be
Moistened by munching lightly
Juicy, prime

Gonna grease your grill
Put the heat back baby
Then, send you the bill

— Smith, 2004

Musicians Tom Orange & David Imburgia – foto Smith

Chiplis found neon sculpture – foto Smith

Katie Daley, one of the two best poets in Cleveland
in my biased judgment – foto Smith

Wendy Shaffer, one of the two best poets in Cleveland
in my biased judgment – foto Smith

Feel for the place – foto Smith

Shelly Chernin reading – foto Smith

Pat’s in the Flats
down in Cleveland’s industrial flats – foto Smith

One Response to “day-after-a-great-creative-event blahs”

  1. chris says:

    fun time.. thanks to Jean and Jeff for finding the place, thank you for MC-ing.. you are a fine Mc… and thanks to everyone who read. Which I think was almost everyone that came…

    Thank you to Pat for allowing the use of the space…

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