So we went out late last night to pay homage to the final evening in one of Albany’s oldest watering holes, the Palais Royale — there used to be poetry readings here in the seventies & eighties, both townie & gownie ones, Don Byrd told me when I first arrived in town in the early 90s, & even after the readings stopped it was a good place to hang with the students and the town poetas, though talk could be difficult due to the battlin’ jukeboxes. Rocky Nigro, the owner, was always worth having a chat with, especially after 3 a.m. — he would show up each & every night some time after midnight into his nineties, in fact, until he died late last year. Nicole wrote up a little memoir of the place, backed by photos taken there on the last night. Follow URL above.
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