Return of Steve Roggenbuck's Chap Book

Hey ya'll remember when I decided to help Steve Roggenbuck distribute his poetry? Well, as thanks he decided to send me a few print copies of his chapbook all the way from Chicago and I was quite excited. Now I could distribute all the poems quite conveniently for him! And of course, I had an idea before the letter had even arrived in the mail. Here it is:

Here it is, the chapbook looking snazzy in it's simple  square format.

Here I am wrapping it up in Christmas wrapping.

Here is a letter addressed to a cleaner, any cleaner really...

Here is the inside of the card. 

And here is it, being left on a table at the food court in Whitfords City, just next to the escalator up to the cinemas. You see when you stop eating a cleaner will wipe your table and remove whatever junk you forgot about/were too lazy to remove and I decided that, hey... they're cleaners. It's important but they work when you've left so they hardly get any thanks right? So... what better gift than a vegan poet they've never heard of from the internet?

I have four other chapbooks in my possession. I'm sure to think of other interesting ways to give them to people/strangers.

For those who want to know what lies within the pages of said chapbook, here it is in full.

Fun Night of First Times

Ever had one of those nights where like "well this is the first time I've done that..."

I had one of those on Tuesday. You ready for it? You sitting down? Good. It went a little something like this...

Lorna decided to throw a fund raising event at a pub in the city for her final year screening (for those films that her fellow film students made) so for the first time I went out to the city to a pub (I don't go out much ok?) The fund raiser was somewhat disappointing as not many people showed up... and I knew that would happen. That's OK, I found 3 people to come with me. The first one I ran into when he just managed to get into the train door just as it was closing on him. Surprise surprise it's my friend from high school, Matt, who has come back to Perth for a little while to drink with his friends who I also knew from high school. I convinced them that if they wanted to drink they should come to where I was going as otherwise we're really going to fail at this fund raising idea...

So we're at the pub and there's a local musician playing. There's people I haven't seen in ages and those I haven't seen... ever... but only one of them really matters to the story. Any way, one of the musicians was a girl with an acoustic guitar just on stage singing by herself to a crowd of 4 people (I know. Attendance was quite poor. There were more, but not all were watching) and and some point the girl next to me says something when a song finishes that the musicians responds to. Can't remember how it went or why it somehow then involved the musician inviting me on stage to play her instrument (I mentioned I played guitar).

First time I've "gate crashed" someone's live performance, taken their instrument and started playing random chords. Now I should point out that the three friends I had convinced to come along were called Matt, Lewis and Kennard. Lewis was blonde, Kennard isn't.

Well, I'm on stage with a guitar and a microphone. I start off with something nice and mellow, a little arpeggiated Am chord with a little hammer off bit on the e string (e-g) added in. (Sounds cool, do it now guitar peeps) I lean closer to the mike and go "This one goes out to Lewis.... you're so much prettier than Kennard." Then I started improvising, tried to get the musician to improvise some lyrics as Lewis and Kennard watched with unimpressed looks on their faces.

So that was the first time I then started serenading a guy on stage with a guitar.

When I got off stage to let the musician continue her set Lewis came up to me and was like "I am not wooed."

Awww...

Well the night continued, and as a joke to do with the empty stage I mentioned poetry readings and stand up. I was encouraged to do that, but didn't. Some middle aged guy from Manchestor who I thought was joking about it too decided that yeah, it's a great idea!

He took the mike and started reciting poems. Poems that he had written. Because he is a poet. At that point in time I turned to the film students and went "....who is this guy again?" and received a few shrugs. OK, random poet just... very enthusiastically and loudly reciting poems about who knows what. I couldn't really follow. I stood there occasionally commenting on it to the guy next to me. "It doesn't rhyme..." "He's using repetition... which is a convention of some poetry for emphasis." You know, the kind of remarks you make during an unexpected poetry reading a pub and you want to make it obvious that you're not really a literary analyst.

Then, mid-sentence, the poet starts yelling at me. "WILL YOU SHUT THE F*** UP!? I'M TRYING TO READ A POEM HERE AND THERE YOU ARE IN YOUR SHORTS AND YOUR CONVERSE ALL TALKING AWAY! THAT'S RUDE, I MEAN I'M FROM MANCHESTER BUT SERIOUSLY!" And then he continued talking.

So that was the first time that a poet had decided to yell at me during a poem. Afterwards he apologised and said it was all in good fun, he hugged me instead of hitting me. I pointed out that my shoes weren't actually converse...

But his poetry did actually keep going on and on... at one point he was talking about oil, slicking back your greasy hair, yeah you something something... and waving his arm in my direction and I was like "...is this poem about me? My hair is actually quite clean...."

The next one was dedicated to the sound guy, who probably hadn't had a night like this... ever...

The poet said he'd introduce me and get me on stage to do some poems/stand up (remember earlier when I was joking about all that?) and I was thinking to myself "I can't follow this... he's just so enthusiastic." The guy next to me goes "Yes, but anything you say would be better" (oh burn) But he decided "Nah, I like talking too much" and so decided not to give me any more stage time, just keep pacing back and forth saying poems. Oh well. I'd been on stage once that night.

There was a raffle at the end. There were about 6 or so prizes and quite a few people had left (including the people I had came with) so it was like "Nah, can't be bothered giving it to people who aren't here..." So they'd draw a ticket, no one had it... they'd draw another... same thing... draw another, someone would win. It was kinda bad for the people who didn't win anything seeing as their odds were really good considering the small amount of competition and the amount of redraws... but nope. I won some wine and someone else won a pizza voucher so we swapped.

I really wasn't ready for walking through Northbridge with a 1.5L bottle of wine in my hand, waiting at a train station for half an hour and then coming home on the train at nearly midnight. You just don't do that. So that wasn't a first time for me thank fully... I don't want to get arrested/beaten up/forced to drink socially with people I've never met who just so happened to have cups on their person and went "WAHEY! GUY WITH BOOZE LET'S GET HIM TO GIVE A ROUND AND TOAST TO SOMETHING YEAAAHHH!!" (It could happen, don't tell me it can't!)

And then that was also the first night I had gone out late, had a drink, yelled over the loud music until my throat was a bit sore, then come home and had less than 5 hours of sleep before my first day at a job where my job description was to talk to strangers on phones. More on that later.