Jack Ross, live and uncensored, tomorrow night

One of New Zealand's most prolific and iconoclastic writers will be performing tomorrow (that's Sunday) night at Devonport's Depot artspace, from 6.30. It costs five dollars to gawk at Jack Ross and hear his booming voice, but you will be well compensated by the pleasures his work provides, not to mention free wine and cheese.

For those of you unfamiliar with Jack's work, here's a sample from the collection of prose and verse he called Chantal's Book:

[Tuesday, 11th January - 3.05 p.m.]
Went for a swim in the icy cold waters of Okains Bay to cool down a bit after playing with C's pussy through her bikini panties. Water straight from Antarctica, through the empty leagues of the South Pacific. Water turquoise-blue against the tawny lion-sand colour of the hills. I was very cold when I returned & Chantal proceeded to warm me up by playing with my cock with her hand while I pulled down my shirt to hide this activity from prying eyes. Luckily, the beach is vast & the cars and people were some distance off. I fingered her till she came, but was left tumescent when a red car pulled up in front of us. A boy got out and started dancing around in the sand with admirable unselfconsciousness.

Heat-shimmer now between us and the hills. One would scarcely imagine the scene had ever been different: single sail, three lines or blocks or areas of green-blue sea, brown, turquoise, ultramarine, one fat man paddling, another sitting in white towelling hat to read, three gazing out to sea - Chantal's head on my knees as she reads The Alexandria Quartet: "Alexandria, the capital of memory."