Legends of doe hoe book release event


On February 13th, 2017 at the Uptown Arts Bar in KCMO, Legends of Doe Hoe was officially released. The evening began with an open mic hosted by Sharon Eiker. Crista Siglin was added as a guest reader.

To prep for the evening, I walked into a thiftstore and purchased a $25 tuxedo. I’m not really sure why this particular outfit spoke to me. Maybe it was I had to lose about 15 pounds to actually get into the thing that appealed to me.


photo credit: Joan Koromante

Prior to the reading, I stood within the outside patio on a rooftop at the downtown public library in KC and ran thru my set list. I wasn’t concerned about the number of people who may attend the reading. I was more concerned which memory would resurface as I presented my work. The project is a collection of random events on my life that tend to cling to a universal theme within the shadows of my own thoughts. I simply didn’t know who would walk the the doors of the Uptown Arts Bar that had claim to each memory I depicted in the book.

The set list:

An open letter to the legends of doe hoe (a prelude to a suicide that is cheaper than you think)

The Nature vs Nature overdose

Click clack paddy whack the Baron needs a home

Present day

The winter of my discontent

An open letter to Lew Welch written by an answer to a question no one asked

An open letter from three plenty of fishes


Used to call this jail, used to call this home (From the “Recessions in Neverland” project)

Until the last tie is broken

Rides In

After the reading, I stepped outside to grab some air. Due to subject matter and private events in my life, this was an emotional reading. There was a brief pause in a couple of conversations and I realized that every shadow of the experiences of my former self were in attendance that night and will follow me on tour. Trail me everywhere I go.

Heaven and hell for sale at $12 a pop.

This was the life I had chosen.

It’s a life very few people rarely get a chance to follow.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Guinness I consumed that night numbed the ache of memory for a bit.

Just for a bit.


photo credit: Joan Koromante

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