Unraveling – a new show!

I’m playing a gig Thurs 29th and besides all the speaking out loud excitement I’m also gonna bring along a seriously limited edition run of pamphlets. Yes! So you can pick up a little souvenir.Really looking forward to the whole thing. Details below – see you there?

Future Perfect present UNRAVELING

An evening of story and song dedicated to untangling the knots created by time, life and love. Come listen as we unpick the perils of dating, try to deal with the twisted mess that is holding down a 9-5 and find out why, in an emergency, it is always safer to stay on the train.

Attempting to help me keep hold of these disparate threads will be Stephanie Gerra on words and Marvin Gore on music.

Date: Thursday 29th May 2014

Show starts: 7.30pm (doors 7pm)

Venue: The Harrison, 28 Harrison Street, King’s Cross, London WC1H 8JF

Tickets: £6/£5 concs. buy on the door



The Great Pretender? Who Are You? I Am What I Am!

Hi gang!

V excited to be hosting a bijou Jukebox Story at the North London Lit Fest with the inimitable Madame Gerra on April 3rd at midday.

We’ll be reading  a selection of flash fiction inspired by pop songs on the theme of ‘Identity’ with a teeny weeny open mic as well, cos we like to spoil you.

So get your records on and get scribbling – submit 200 words or so to jukeboxstory@gmail.com by 24th March and we’ll let you know if your piece makes it through.

Now, just to think of songs about identity… hmmm…

Wooden Horse


He’s trying to be kind, I think, with his roll call of all points north
Huddersfield;  Heckmondwike; Hebden Bridge
Sat outside the pub, defiant in his shirtsleeves, in January
(Smoking a fag)
He’s trying to say: we’re the same

We’re not the same

He’s trying to call a truce, I think, singing softly and smiling (fag in hand)
Noting the echoes in our voices
Detailing the Venn diagram of our past, the overlaps
He wants us to be friends

But we are natural enemies
Separated at birth by a bloody great mountain range
And a bloody great battle

All I can hear is the clash of swords
Cries of defiance; moans of defeat
I’ve a head full of smoke and pain
And all I can think is I can’t let him win
I won’t let him win
He’s not going to win
Not again

White versus red
Heart versus head
And, to the victor, the spoils

(c) Em Fleming