POEtry night!

Once upon a midnight Waving, after several weeks of slaving
At our thankless jobs relentless, finally a break was near
Waverly was all a flutter, dearest friends (& box of Sutter)
Celebrating with the clutter, giving thanks and drinking beer.

Clinking jars they were not lacking, when suddenly there came a tapping
As if someone were wildly rapping, rapping at our 5th floor door
'It's Miss Clare!' we gasped befuddled, rapping at our 5th floor door
Come to wreck our fun once more. . .

Then we all in darkness frozen, (dressed to theme in lederhosen)
Seeking shelter from her scolding dropped to lie on dusty floor
Entered she with keys a clinking, came to check for fallen ceiling
Then she saw us shocked and steaming, sixty clinging to the floor
Friends and colleagues panic stricken seeking shelter on the floor. . .
Miss Clare shouting 'Nevermore'

This weeks waves:
Relive a bygone time when one Anne Charlotte Lynch used to own our very own 116
(the plumbing, electricity and paint have not been touched since)
Here she would host literary salons
and it was here that a young E. A. Poe debued a little poem he wrote
called The Raven

So come dressed in your best period attire
Who knows if we will actually ever get to the poetry
But if a little old lady downstairs stops you as you come in
that is your story and to it you must stick!!


116 Waverly Place #5
TUESDAY*
11/21/06
9:30 ish

*remember no one goes to work on wed anyway, so it will be like a friday

Fun links about the neighborhood:

http://home.nyc.rr.com/jkn/nysonglines/waverly.htm

http://www.nd.edu/~wcawley/lynchbio.htm