Should you be prudish puddings, freak frogs, vegan vultures, breakfast brutes and funky fruits, bang poets or junk poets or even plain poets, blue cabbages and pink
trumpets, merry-go-round travellers or magic roundabout surfers and hulla-hoop singers, studious students and naughty rodents, squatterpillars or passers-by, funny flapping flowers or blooming butterflies, party people or bursting bubbles, the usual crows and so many more if you're hungry for the encore, you are all invited to the first edition of Madame Hatter's scabrous cabaret for a night of sweet
delirium open to all sorts of performers, artists, poets,
story-tellers...
The Black Cat has currently hold of a massive gig space with a bar, a sound system, a grand piano and even a toilet for you to play with! Roof is high and acoustics much refined, come rock and trash the space and time with paint and taste, we wouldn't mind!
She's slim and slimy and could easily break into your pipery, Beware of Madame Hatter coz' of decadence she's the plumber...
