Bringin a tear to my eye

Awesome announcement.

Cy Preclops

—I haven’t had a drink since Saturday.
—It’s Wednesday.
—I know
—You sound like an alcoholic.
—I know. It still feels good not to drink. I’m going to keep going with it.
—Good! That’s good.
—Every time I make a proclamation like this I immediately undermine myself, but I sort of want to become totally straight-edge: no booze, no drugs, no [...]

personal pan pizza

—Quit drinking coffee, day 4, still feel a little moony, a little spacey, but pretty much out of the woods
—Blog, internet, writing, friends, harmful, peaceful occlusions. Dog just realized “Mystery Science Theater 3000″ is a brilliant name for a (brilliant) TV show. Couldn’t get enough of the photographs accompanying this NYT article about The Onion, [...]

Violent and original dreams

Will Self on JG Ballard in Granta 107:
Ballard, the most outlandish of fictional imaginers, had always dug out his wellspring by the hearth, and remained the perfect exemplar of Magritte’s dictum: a bourgeois in his life, a revolutionary in his dreams.
Another maxim, expressing a similar sentiment, is attributed to Flaubert. From his entry on [...]

Permanent Teardrop.

Hey Cancer
How’s “the darkness
Fine
Not as dark as you make it sound
Black beans and codfish
Shapeshifter rsvp’d.
Self-Zine?
Got fired Friday, can’t make it
Dog wearing lipstick?
Dunno,  she’s in heat, maybe spayed,  upset
really?
aye
listen
Fear-monger
canceled too. it’s just gonna be me you and self-zine
shapeshifter
And li’l caesar
The pizza guy

used to work for Men’s Wearhouse.
Hey whoww ofenn does your zine come out?
—Every other fortnight
does [...]

Eyeball Soup

There is a bowl of chili here.
Steam rises from its beans and meatflecks. It billows politely around a dollop of cold sour cream.
As you gaze into the stew, my face—the face of a young, obese Steven Spielberg, “replete” with undirty baseball cap and full Jewish hair fanning out from beneath the cap’s circumference—appears to you [...]

Where Is War-Weena?

—Internet’s quiet tonight
—Yep
—You said yer sleepy. Sure you wanna be bloggin?
—Don’t see why not. Got some language in my pan, might as well fry it up
—That don’t mean you necessarily have anything to say [easing off the fake southern accent outta self-consciousness]
—always got something to say. even when I don’t. I dig the “tale told [...]

“gravity’s pinned minions / ain’t that sweet”

Four new poems by Richard Parks in Snow Monkey. Love em. “Hey: what’s the Spanish for ‘ass curtain’?”
I really picked the wrong night last night to drink four beers smoke 40 fags and eat a suiza, man, sheesh! Why? Well, today I have to be in 1980s businesswoman drag all day, for work—shoulder-pads, heels, thigh-cut [...]

Amber Tamblyn

a preponderance of shit to do has thrown me into a “fake” existential crisis where I am looking at Amber Tamblyn’s Wikipedia page instead doing the things I gotta do. Via Ed, holy crap, how did I not know about Amber Tamblyn?? She’s blogging at the Poetry Foundation:
You’re the Beyonce of Susan B. Anthonys.  None [...]

Alfredo Nightmare

FACEBOOK, NY. 2009.
The air is suffused with sex and romance. A woman in an apron pulls a baking sheet of marzipan from the oven and sets in on the counter to cool. I wrote this last weekend, but am for some dumb reason ([internet] problems at home) only posting it now.

WOMAN: I’ve got to sing [...]