All Shoved Together
First Draft‘s first new and improved cabaret event
Monday 17 August at The Castle Hotel
7.30pm – FREE
If you were at our last event, you’ll have heard that we’re making a bit of a change to the way we run our regular cabaret nights at First Draft. Instead of a ‘theme’ for each event, we’re going to try out providing a prompt, which will come from a creative person of our choosing, and be given to all performers who sign up to respond to in whatever way they see fit.
The first prompt comes from brand new First Draft team member, Harry Jelley.
Line up of performers
Ros Ballinger – poetry
Ronnie Leek – poetry/fiction
Megan Holland – fiction
Jimbo Agogo – poetry
Gareth Cutter – spoken word
Mark Powell – spoken word
Adam Blaize – comedy
Lydia Hounat – poetry
Sam Rossi-Harries – dramatic monologue
Ailish Breen & Abi Hynes – music & storytelling
Trisha Starbrook – fiction
Hosted by Harry Jelley
Harry’s prompt: All Shoved Together
A house is a house until you look closer and see bricks and look inside and see bathroom, bedroom, living room, tiles, grouting. Sometimes it’s more useful to think of things as a simple bigger thing, like don’t drive into that house. Sometimes its more useful to use a more specific word. If a housemate asks you where the hoover is and you say “in the house” you’ve not got much further.
Like writing Harry Jelley, 32 Palatine Road, Manchester, Lancashire, UK, Europe, The Earth, The Solar System, The Milky Way, The Universe, This Universe — when is precision useful? When is it restrictive? When is excess exciting or funny?
All Shoved Together
red bowls/blue bowls
wine glasses with classic cars etched on them
carved wooden boxes
metal vesta boxes
all on the table
all shoved together
all to be sold.
abstract as the incoherent thoughts
in the electrical/organic/soulful?
that shoot wild —
by outside eyes into a name.
Norway. Or. Say.
The Post Office.
All usefully sized
softly supported in a crucible word.
Here I’ll call it Car Boot.
Then the drill bits and ice cream
underwear and garden forks
broken watches and open sky.
It all makes sense
when you place it into a spoken mould/
thought brace/imagined skin.