Three Mysterious Histories of the Smoking Hand

Imagine a hidden speakeasy. Imagine yourself wound in pure black silk, your hair in stiff, delicate finger waves. Or do you wear a fitted black suit, a smart hat, pearl cuff links? Either way, a pistol is hidden on you somewhere enticing, ’cause this is noir, sweetheart, and this is the Poetry Brothel.

Come join us this Sunday, the 15th of April, 8pm-2am for live jazz standards, intimate poetry readings by your favorite poetry whores (you’re following them all on Twitter, aren’t you?), and a mystery to be solved! It seems that some scoundrel has pilfered the Madame’s smoking hand, and we need you to help us figure out who!

So dress up, darlings, we certainly will. Come in black and white; show your true colors. We’ll be painted head to toe in shades of grey, impatiently awaiting your arrival. And remember, a seductive brunette will serenade you for the whole first hour; we know you wouldn’t want to miss that! Bring your doll. Throw her around the dance floor. Spill your Dark and Stormy. Ok, ok, you know what we want from you. See you there. Bang, bang, kiss, kiss.

– The Management

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