Icy sidewalks (can we talk about the city’s war on pedestrians), subzero weather, storm warnings & even the Grammies didn’t keep people away from the February Noir. I’ve seen bigger houses for the show but regardless of size of the audience the talent on stage is always large.

After a round of dynamic open stagers – Philip Cairns (missing Anita Ekberg), Tracy Hamilton (romantic memory), myself (bitter/sweet romantic memories), Josh Goldstein (fast flow fever dreamer) – David Bateman gave us a fine set from his recent books, & also a lesson that being published isn’t the road to riches.

His monologue on the death of a lover starts ‘am I ready to write about you/two decades later’ – there is no time limit to grief – ‘you and someone like you dying inside me.’ The set was sprinkled with haiku ‘if there’s a kind of hush/all over the world/why can’t…