Paris Lit Up Open Mic – The Convenience Store
Report by Kate Noakes. Photographs by Viola Manfra.
The shelves were positively groaning with poetic riches at The Convenience Store that was Paris Lit Up Open Mic on 11 April. Among the bogofs, James watched from his bedroom window as the neighbourhood bad boys guacamoled the hapzard, scatter-brained fruit and veg of the shop, where when you buy a packet of fags the owner opens it, keeps one and hands you nineteen.
In stock for the very first time were Katarina with her low-esteem heroin heroine, trying to make herself into something from nothing; Raime, felling a tree; and fresh from Bristol, where she hosted the Poetry Pulpit was Liz, who went cross-bow shooting in Prague and confessed she was ‘really hungry and not good at fridge management’. With a new pad of letter paper, she wrote a chilling note to her boss ‘if I was a zombie, I’d chew off your face.’ Max picked up some envelopes and stamps to write to his former and future girlfriends, including the implausibly beautiful Caroline with her big front teeth.
Back from Barcelona (too many food miles) Kate read Lorca, her first ever translation from French into English, a new poem and she tried the usual poetry lottery lucky dip. The crowd picked a good one this time. Anass explained the basics of globalisation and co-operative economics, or why you shouldn’t take things from the back of the shelf.
Picking a nice bunch of flowers from the buckets outside, or ee cummings, if you prefer, Beatrice then tried to encourage us with Pervase: ‘no more losing ourselves by the river’.
Finally in the bargain basement, Jason was tossed in the dented tins bin echoing the Morphology of Metamorphosis and worringly dropping tabs with Weed People.
More staying open late on a corner near you every Thursday.