NL- If you can get thee to a poetry reading, you have to meet Francois (Frank) an inspirational, adorable, entertaining man, who has written MANY poems about the porn industry, including The Mysteries Of Aud (on Audrey Bitoni) which you can read here- https://www.lukeisback.com/?p=6737
Francois Drouin Writes-
A rare 5th thursday came up at the end of July (which when it does i host that night at poetry unplugged @ Luna’s) and the rare occurance of a visitation by Poet/writer/professor Lee Foust from his now home town of Florence Italy. The universe speaks — we put the two together AND …
WHAT DO YOU GET ???? please read below … see you at Luna’s !!
WHO: Featured Lee Foust (Dr. Foust) and various open mic readers (there ARE rumours that Ruben Reveles of Moth-Spy-Eros fame will make a guest drop-in)
WHAT: Poetry/Lit. performance reading PLUS Luna’s open mic
WHEN: THIS THURSDAY 7.29.1O 8PM
"the cost of a drink frees your mind and gives voice to your voice"
Luna’s Cafe is located at 1414 16th Street
(between N & O) in downtown Sacramento.
Here’s another porno poem for ya, Cindi, w/o all the fluff:
An ode to my load,
about to explode,
on your face
or anyplace.
Give me a piece
of your behind
and I will have
peace of mind.
All I need is a performer to perform to my golden words live on stage. Improvised porno poetry has been a crazy idea of mine for a while (If you actually have to sit down and think hard in order to come up with this, though, I pity the fool).
This Frank dude seems to be just another clueless, delusional, lonely chronic masturbator, otherwise he would have find something better and more fun to do with his life instead of writing ass licking poems about whores. I mean come on, *The Mysteries of Aud*? Are you fucking kidding me? What’s so mysterious about a whore who gets paid to fuck strangers on film? Perhaps the only mystery is why Frank can’t get laid, and why he has to write imaginary tales about getting laid. There’s nothing mysterious about porn and porn whores, just a bunch of gals and guys, trying to make ends meet and get their kicks in late great America.
P.S: Hey Frank, mystify this: What’s the thing you can sit on and take it with you everywhere you go?
The answer is your ass.