The Wildly Inappropriate Poetry
Of
Arthur Greenleaf Holmes
England's Preeminent Poet of the Perverse
Hello, my friends. Just a quick update: Our off-Broadway run of "The Wildly Inappropriate Poetry of Arthur Greenleaf Holmes," at the Access Theater in New York has been (tentatively) re-scheduled for November of 2021. We appreciate your patience as we try to navigate these waters, but be certain that this show will go on, and that we will keep you informed as things come into focus.
Thank you, friends, for your terrific support. Please be safe, and stay in touch.
Yours,
Arthur & Company
Thank you, friends, for your terrific support. Please be safe, and stay in touch.
Yours,
Arthur & Company
Who am I? Start here!
What? John Cleese reciting Arthur Greenleaf Holmes? Have we died and gone to a more perfect Heaven?
From my good friend Christopher Buehlman, author of "Those Across The River," "The Lesser Dead," and "Between Two Fires":
"NEW YORK FRIENDS
Some of the funniest performers I’ve ever met or seen—and I’ve seen a few—happen to work on the renaissance festival circuit, and this man is arguably the best of the bunch. But don’t argue, because you’ll lose.
From “I Built My Love a Menstrual Hut” to “On the Road to Gomorrah” and please let’s not forget “The Tewksbury Pudding,” the poems of Arthur Greenleaf Holmes, and more importantly, the delivery of their writer—razor-sharp comedian Gordy Boudreau—will leave you punching your companion hard in the thigh, not because you’re an abuser but because you can’t breathe.
And how to describe that delivery?
Imagine the debauched, high-functioning cynicism of Blackadder as animated by Frank Oz.
And the writing? Oh, the writing. Ogden Nash meets the Marquis de Sade.
I understand tickets for these limited appearances are moving faster than cocaine at a Restaurant Managers of America convention, so don’t dilly-dally or you’ll be left chafing in the alley with the hurdy-gurdy man. (See the show—you’ll understand.)"
"NEW YORK FRIENDS
Some of the funniest performers I’ve ever met or seen—and I’ve seen a few—happen to work on the renaissance festival circuit, and this man is arguably the best of the bunch. But don’t argue, because you’ll lose.
From “I Built My Love a Menstrual Hut” to “On the Road to Gomorrah” and please let’s not forget “The Tewksbury Pudding,” the poems of Arthur Greenleaf Holmes, and more importantly, the delivery of their writer—razor-sharp comedian Gordy Boudreau—will leave you punching your companion hard in the thigh, not because you’re an abuser but because you can’t breathe.
And how to describe that delivery?
Imagine the debauched, high-functioning cynicism of Blackadder as animated by Frank Oz.
And the writing? Oh, the writing. Ogden Nash meets the Marquis de Sade.
I understand tickets for these limited appearances are moving faster than cocaine at a Restaurant Managers of America convention, so don’t dilly-dally or you’ll be left chafing in the alley with the hurdy-gurdy man. (See the show—you’ll understand.)"
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