A long time ago. I found myself in Poetic Retirement. I wasn't reading out at all and The original Waiting for the Bus had gone bust. I wasn't thinking about a new show, much less a new collective. I was hanging out with a friend of a friend (who became a good friend) and he dragged me to an open mic.

At this Open mic I met Esteban Colon and Dena Pope, and I started performing out more and one day Esteban and I started to artistically collaborate and that was the seed that led to waiting 4 the bus for the 21st century.

That friend of a friend was Jeff Givens, or the Bourbon Cowboy, or Ziggy Sawdust, or the Golden Elvis. He just gone and finished himself a record. I like it, but I'm his biggest fan. Give it a listen, you might like it.

Thanks for helpin' me live the life, Jeff.

The wheels on the bus.

Let’s get serious for a second. I need to confess to restarting the W4tB open mic at the worst time ever. Walking into October with the ubiquitous presence of Chicago Calling with my eyes open and a first time feature on the bill, I’m not expecting much audience for the October 1st show.
Our first show with Maxwell Baumbach had a cozy and comfortable feel to it, but it wasn’t Waiting 4 the Bus. Every time you bring your show to a new venue, whether you’ve been there or not, it takes a lot more than unpacking your adjectives and rockin’ into it. There is a rebuilding process.
I know life is busy and competition for shows is tough and a gig is a gig, but more and more we are becoming like real families and we are only seeing each other at Weddings and Funerals. I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work.
So, if you are free on October 1st, come on down to the Green Room at Jaks Tap. Meet some folks, celebrate a new voice in our community, share your poetry, or just share yourself.
We miss and need you all.

--Buddha 309

Monday, October 1, 2012
7:30pm until 10:00pm

The Bus of Weird is rolling back on its regular schedule. This time our special guest is Tatiana Ormaza as usual our show comes to you live from the Green Room at Jaks Tap, 901 W. Jackson, sign up starts at 7:30 and the show runs until 10 pm.
so...
get your ducks in a row
tell your friends,
make peace with your enemies
and tell them too.
get yourself down to Jaks.

updates

Whassup, at the bus depot ? Well kids the universe seems to have righted itself, at least, on the localized front. Waiting 4 The Bus is returning to its old home at Jaks Tap. The open mic antics of our merry misfits will continue on the 1st and 3rd Mondays In October, with a special detour to the 4th Monday in September, just to keep things on track.. We will be kicking things back up on October 24th with Maxwell Baumbach featuring.

It’s with a little bit of sadness that we lay to rest the First Friday Poetry series, but it is with great joy that we bask in the phoenix like resurrection of its new incarnation the Second Sunday Show. Top Shelf Poets will invade Powell’s book store beginning Sunday Oct 14 from 3-5 in the afternoon. I can’t reveal all the readers just yet, but it’s gonna be cool.

Here’s a quick wrap up of important dates

September 24th-Maxwell Baumbach at Jaks Tap

October 1st-Tatiana Ormaza at Jaks Tap

Octoper 14th-Second Sunday at Powell’s (debut show)

October 15th-Open Mic at Jaks Tap

It is a rarity for the second Sunday and the third Monday to be back to back, but it happens occasionally.

The Green Room, Our new home at JAKS

And the butterflies of chaos left me homeless and Waiting 4 the Bus. August seems to be the month of treachery for our little band of poetic heroes. Not only has there been a huge fiasco with Cafe Ballou, but "Studio A' has regrettably resigned as our host for the first Friday Show.

I don't want to get into the Cafe Ballou situation, some of you already know and if you don't, drop me a private line. It is not for public consumption.

As for Studio A-they did a good thing for as long as they could. We were bumped which was always a possibility. The owner of Studio A is even trying to think of other venues who might take us in.

And through it all I can hear that Chaos Butterfly laughing at me, flapping it's wings and chuckling. I want to run and hide, curl up in the fetal position, play in traffic, all at the same time.

But somebody reminded me that this is probably not a curse, or a butterfly conspiracy, but rather, the Universe telling me that we need a change. I'm not about to give up without a fight, but stay tuned. Things may change and they may change quickly. I'll do my best to keep you posted.

MAY 30TH AT CAFE BALLOU: 939 N. WESTERN AVE. 7:30 SHARP!

Although Ulysses is able to navigate the traps laid before him by the gods, he never escapes Homer's grasp. Although Macbeth waivers before the floating dagger, his indecision is completely under Shakespeare's control. And Candide has no one but Voltaire to thank for his outrageous luck. Only Augusto Perez discovers the true nature of the fictional universe, and quite by accident. His stumbles across his lord creator Miguel de Unamuno at work at his desk, writing the manuscript. No burning bushes, no pillars of salt. Just pen and ink.

Help save our home

The struggle between commerce and art continues, not in the way you think. This isn’t about one dominating over the other, but rather the brief sub-set when the two need to join hands. The W4tB collective was very lucky to find a home at Café Ballou. The owner is very supportive of the arts and we appreciate all he’s done for us.

The simple truth of the matter is that people open cafes as a way to make money. No matter how supportive of the arts they are, bills need to be paid. That includes servers, and electric bills, and comfy climate control devices. Especially in this case, the Café Ballou stays open late for us crazy poets. Our show does not occur during its regular hours of operation.

This is the scary part. W4tB is in danger of losing its home. Not because of anything we did. We haven’t been offensive of been asked to tone down our behavior. The fact of the matter is that the owner of the place likes us and we like him. On the business side of things is where we hit a snag. Our attendance numbers have been okay, and if everybody bought a little something to eat during the night we might be okay, but lately The café has been operating at a loss during our show and the receipts show it’s due to lack of sales.

I know times are hard. W4tB has done it’s best to make the donation to the feature only what you can afford. We even state that if it’s a choice between the donation plate and the House, pick the House. That being said…The Owner suggested that maybe we want to institute a cover charge. I told him that would be a horrible idea. It would cut attendance. People don’t want to be required to pay an extra charge for a place to sit. I will fight this cover as long as I can.

In order to carry out this fight, I need the help of the Weirdo Nation. I need you to come to the show. I need you to come to the show with friends and money. I need you to be willing to spend some of that money and have your friends do the same. Our quality of entertainment hasn’t changed and can only get better with your participation. We love our home at Café Ballou, but hugs and mutual admiration ain’t gonna keep us in business.

FINAL NOTES, BY JP REESE

Title: Final Notes

Author: JP Reese

Publisher: Naked Mannekin

Format: 7.5 x 5" Chapbook

ISBN: 1-933126-09-4

List Price: $10.00

Inquiries: nakedmannekin@gmail.com








Too many times, the idea of a “chapbook” substantiates the claim that poetry has little, if anything, left to say. In JP Reese’s Final Notes, nothing could be farther from the truth. We get snuck up on with lines like “Danger rests in believing the honest blue of the sky.” Remarkably understated, it becomes a sort of poetic fortune cookie, not to be tossed aside, but held on to as our journeys progress.

Another example is the stunning poem “Evanescence,” where we come away feeling the addictive nature of commingling in darkness. There is joy in this knowledge that warmth, however it is made aware to us, is momentary in its dynamic, but worth taking. The poem “2008, What I Wanted” offers wisdom beyond anything that might be stated here about it. This is a manifesto to the world on how not to treat those left breathing.

JP Reese has the skill of an artist and the soul of a survivor. The proof is compiled in a perfectly lean volume that needs to be read with admiration for years to come. Those looking to find that most rarified of beings, a genuine poet, need look no further.


© 2012 Sam Pereira

ECO6