Thursday, May 17, 2012

D Note love letter 5/17/12

D vourers,

How are you, masticaters of D?

Chew on this. Thursday after the truly lolful Geeks Who Drink Trivia we have 3 bands, 9pm Josiah James, Claymore Disco, and The Lost Colors. Free. The Lost Colors of the Claymore Disco...hmm...

Friday we have a bunch of metaphorical bananas. Each banana represents the perfect food of music. And if the food of music be love, play on. [5:00p]
Alice Frisch (free) [7:00p] Mestizo, Canyon Creek Band $7  [10:30p] Laroy & co $5.

Saturday, to continue the theme, we have a smorgasbord; a little English fare, some German schnitzel, some latin salsa, some Jamaican jerk and Mr. Steak for dessert. [12:30p] Chelsea v. Bayern Munich 2012 Champions League Final  [4:00p] Family Music Train presents: Trios Los Bohemios (latin) $7 adult/$3 kids  [6:45p] The Doug Endres Memorial Concert and Benefit w/ Ironwood Rain, Lion Soul Jah and Mr. Steak. $8

Salsa is looking for beginners. This means you. Organize a group of your friends and come try salsa. Joseph Snowhawk is a gentle and excellent teacher for beginners. Plus it is so much fun. $8 includes lesson and 12 piece salsa orchestra.

Monday night open mic needs you and your friends, and so does Marlo and Farm Jazz on Wednesdays. Marlo and gang played the first Wednesday night of their residency last week and it was beautiful. Great night to come practice your two step or your swing. Free.

Flamenco legend Rene Heredia and his beautiful dancers next Friday at 7pm...

We believe through you,

D voured

Extra Credit: Here's a new poem by our friend Noel Black. We recently wrote a review for Noel Black's new book which you can find here.


In The City Of Word People

Under the world, Satan’s riverboat of indecision collects the air,
killing without glory or punishment.

Who can collect the wolf?

Brighty, nighty, disappointment writing
in the heart you can’t win.

This is the poem I wrote while sort of half-staring
at the bookshelf beside my bed.
I used to like to think about books being neighbors
on bookshelves, which were like skyscrapers of books,
and that inside your house was a metropolis of word people
even if you lived in a log cabin by yourself
in the middle of a beautiful meadow
so beautiful that every time you looked out your window
you would think about the Robert Duncan poem
“Often I Am Permitted to Return to A Meadow”
even though you were already in a meadow
surrounded by thousands of wonderful books
written by people you’re glad don’t live there.

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