You Would, I guess

You wouldn’t believe the things under my coffee table. There was a pair of yellow socks that I have never seen before. Half a pint of Grey Goose. Part of a tennis ball (I don’t play tennis). A spleen. Something blue that seemed to be breathing. And other, frightening things.

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unmaking

We don’t talk about these things. Not at all. Stop asking.

Anyway, this is sort of unformed but is simply something I have been thinking about. I know a writer (I won’t name this fellow out of respect) who has had incredible success. A few small press books have been followed by a multi-book deal with a major publisher. I like this dude on a personal level. Beyond the personal, he makes extraordinary sentences which sometimes lead into beautiful sections. Yet, none of it ever coalesces into anything really.

His work, while pretty on the level of language and form, says nothing meaningful about what it is to be human. It also fails to rise to the pure entertainment level of pulp (like Jim Thompson or Stephen King).

So, what he makes are great sentences, not great stories or books.

I want to make great stories (or books). Does this mean that I should stop trying to make great sentences? Should I want to unmake great sentences? Unmake words?

Maybe I am rambling.

So many things …

So many things and no time at all until my bones begin to eat themselves.

The first of the things that should be first is that “While You are Sleeping I Will Evolve into a Bird” (my poetry collection from Black Coffee Press) will be out in August. We are in the home stretch now. The cover art is beautiful and sexy and weird and I could not be more happy about it. I should get a final proof soon so that I can correct any issues that may exist. I really need to find a way to seriously spread the word on this thing. Caleb Ross says that Facebook ads aren’t worth the cost. I wonder if Facebook is a marketing tool of worth at all. It must be better than twitter. I mean it must. The twittery-thingy just doesn’t allow for the space needed to tell people about a book. Still, I guess I am stuck with both. Does MySpace still exist? Does anyone know of better means of marketing a book online? Is marketing even meaningful?

I’m deeply into a new series of poems. Overall the thing is called “Like Lobsters and Lions in a Seven Sided Machine”. These poems are maybe more strident. Also they seem to have a hook in history. Billy the Kid and Phineas Gage and Teddy Roosevelt and Jack the Ripper pop up here and there. I need a chapbook publisher to handle this but am so lazy about approaching people (plus I fear rejection because that’s just me, ya know?). (So… if you’re a chapbook publisher you only need ask… and such)

I don’t like Mitt Romney.

Ron Paul, while crazy as a bag of weasels, is a ton of fun.

I enjoy melting cheddar cheese on a whole wheat bagel!

I’ve been laid off work for a month now but get to go back to my crap job on Monday. It will nice to have some coins rolling around in my pocket again. maybe I can finally afford that operation to have my ego replaced with an Eggo waffle.

I have like 500 some facebook friends. It is my goal to reach 20,000. That number is arbitrary, but so is the desire to do anything not related to survival or procreation (e.g. eating, drinking, seeking shelter and fucking). I don’t want to procreate. I have had my testicles irradiated to that end.

After a long hiatus I am back to being the me I was the last time I wasn’t me.