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PLU Open Mic – Feriae Augustae

PLU Open Mic – Feriae Augustae

Hosted by ERK.

Turning the corner on the Rue de Belleville, she was afraid. The streets were empty, except for the hot dead air squatting above the tarmac. Pigeons cooed threateningly. She gulped What was she doing here? Why hadn’t she gone with the others? Passing another boarded-up tobacconist, she quickened her pace, there wasn’t time to panic. It was Thursday, 7.45pm. She had a mission to complete, and there was no-one else left to do it. Bastards.
– A brief extract from ERK’s bestseller crime novel “August in Paris.”*

This Thursday we gave the middle finger to those who say that Paris shuts down in the summer. 15/08 might officially be the quietest day of the year, but Culture Rapide was literally literarily alive that night.

It felt like some of the greatest writers were in the room with us.
F. Scott Fitzgerald was represented by the Exceptionally Well-Dressed Crew, who had chosen to channel The Great Gatsby that evening. Stephen started us off with a non-descript Tuesday in the park, and Chairman Michael encouraged us to Rest in Piss with musical accompaniment. Jackie boy’s purchases were made and d-listed in numerical order.
Of course we couldn’t forget Bill. Shakespeare, that is. And by Shakespeare I mean the Shakespeare and Company bookstore that Thomas paid homage to. The other important Bill, like the 17th century playwright, added to our vocabulary with “obscurantism” and a little Latin (less Greek.)
Erika made sure we didn’t get stuck in the past, and brought us to modern-day Paris where you definitely DON’T SMILE. Unless you want to be sexually harassed. She also taught us (or me at least) a new word: Crunk. We might need to start a PLU dictionary.
Then things went international… Ana brought a French fork to the table, and Kristina – with Hemmingway to start her off – reminded us that the way back is untouchable.
Jenna’s jar took her down a naughty hallway, away from her writers’ block, turning up the temperature. Emily gave up with writers and turned to art.

“Writers’ block is like being your own abusive boyfriend”

Part two saw Neruda kindly pop in (via Ana) and Kristina went back to Russian. Erika was proud of masturbating, concerned about balls and other butt stuff. Tristan Corbière made an appearance through Emily, and Stephen brought his dates Cinderella and Cleopatra to the party. Bill claimed to be dead, but luckily Alex threw his cherry stones, giving Belleville Park Pages the best advertising they never heard. I hope he gets commission.

Hold. Hiccups. Monsoons. Your breath. Rainbow.

Liz found a letter she’d never sent to somebody, and we were grateful that the baby she forgot was only a dream. Finally Victor and his trusty guitar had pockets full of knuckles in a Summer love song. Sigh.

*not true

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