CR Avery

Living in East Van, but celebrated far-and-wide for his imaginative, idiosyncratic poetry and music, CR Avery is a Neal Cassady or Tom Waits for the 21st Century.  He concludes a mini-tour with this hometown show to highlight his new book ("The Black Water Under The August Moon Parade") and vinyl ("All the Angels Didn't Scare Me").

This bio of C.R. was penned by poet P. Smith:

​

what men do with their mouths 

​

cue the frenzied combo of molar and spit.
his tongue touches every chroma on its way to blue.
he’s been rinsing with gravel, flossing with wire
and chewing brick again, he’s been a bad, bad boy.
but he is crackerjack conjurer of washboards and
rubber, even suburb girls welcome the twinging. i
want to nibble yesterday’s corona from his chin, rub
my index finger along the surface of his laugh, pull
the maw open to check the slick road of his throat.
there’s something illegal going on down there, the
sweet keening of ancient instruments. the orchestra
is fidgety, click-hipped, steaming inside that skin.
the boy opens the beauteous and, in gut rendering,
words become both otherwise and everything.

cravery.com    |   facebook.com/craveymusic