zygote, atlas scorched, boxes of light, staples, porn

two poems at zygote in my coffee. one about ice cream and death, the other an ekphrasis of a dream i had wherein gandhi and einstein make slow love.

for some reason nothing but solid winter keeps coming out my pores and mouth. my body doesn't know it is summer and i don't have a calendar i can hold and point to in front of my body. i drank the ouzo in the fridge but before doing that i set the glass on the counter and stared at the milk cloud that happens when you add water. i am not a traditionalist. i just wanted to see a chemical reaction.

book news is reverberating. blake butler's novel scorch atlas can be pre-purchased here. you can see him rape and set fire to his own book here then partially ingest his book here. ever was an experience unlike anything and i devoured it. i expect to do the same with scorch atlas. afterward however i will treat it kindly. maybe pour champagne on it.

shane jones's gorgeous light boxes is being adapted for film by spike jonze and ray tintori. on hearing this i said oh my god mantrically for several minutes. i danced a little. i dreamed about shane jones and electricity and woke with the chorus of ready, able in my head. i plan on leaving my cave to attend the premiere. i want to be there when hollywood is (tenderly) violated by independent literature.

i like getting things in the mail with staple qualms. staple qualms are sexy.

you can view reverence, art and porn courtesy of pear noir! here. i will say the porn is the most riveting porn i have ever viewed. i am glad pear noir! is no longer suicidal.

word // riot

4 poems in word riot. excited to be in the company of j.a. tyler, brandi wells and tirumal mundargi, among others. brandi wells has a badass piece in decomp by the way. plus you can play the what parts of my bio are still true? game. kind of embarrassing. kind of notorious for outdated bios. i would not be surprised if the next one alludes to the recent reagan election. if i am honest this one is still true. except i cannot watch the situation room in its current time slot and california will not be on fire again until next month.

david lynch brand coffee

dreamed up honeycombs and doorjambs last night. have been out of town. visited a nice institution called book soup and spent all my money on litmags. missed david lynch by two days. was distressed by this. there was a display for david lynch coffee cups (see below) built by david lynch and his son. witnessed an aristocrat car crash outside this institution. took photographs of graffiti warning of robot invasion. stopped and asked a star map vendor how to get to alpha centauri. have cultivated an obsession with this american life. and anything else within three degrees of separation from philip glass. will have the place to myself for 9 days. debauchery, voodoo orgies, pyromania, reading will follow. still need to submit things. still feel insecure about them. have an interview soon. self-induced neurosis. will submit things after the interview. a fuller maybe or more patient maybe return to literary themes will follow after 24 hours.



good words lately:

toast by darby larson at keyhole. the way i love this is by cutting with scissors a hole in the bottom of my heart. not sure how else to make room for the infinite. read this now.

barry graham's minimize me; i'd be terrible in ex cathedra, page 71. holy fuck.

new pank. ethel rohan, xtx, ricky garni, more goodness.

new clockwise cat. eric beeny, adam moorad, luis cuauhtemoc berriozabal, peycho kanev, more goodness.

new jmww. justin sirois, jac jemc, james iredell, meg pokrass, j.a. tyler, non-stop train of goodness.

eat hell by joseph mattson from narrow books. a $5 injection of goodness. a bonus being how infernally tasty is its wallpaper.

i need to re-learn how to speak and shake hands and say positive things about myself. not sure why these behaviours are encouraged.

nice try esperanto & moments of levity

dante alighieri was like bitch please and saved this post from the throes of HTML hell.

esperanto sounds predominantly like italian to me. esperanto was a nice try. here is something at dogzplot about language. i think of it as kind of a b-side.

update: the WHOLE summer issue is up and looking fresh and like it could smell of star anise if you get close enough. so far i really like this story by christina kapp.

i like piffle. and the people who contribute therein.

unscroll #2 from gold wake press is alive and looks great. excited to wade in. work from molly gaudry, eric burke, ben spivey, j.a. tyler, cl bledsoe, and eric beeny.

i am starting to have dreams about other writers. usually my dreams are not populated by people i know. or people. i dreamed i was writing an email to ryan manning. i dreamed i was inside a storyscape written by shane jones but not a storyscape already written by shane jones in reality. i dreamed i was talking with linh dinh in a green room before a poetry reading. probably better than paralysis and black holes.

i get emails from the 'paymint depertment' saying 'your email id been choosen to recieve a grant prize'. which makes me less skeptical about things.

i have been lent an obscure CD by an east german band from the 80s. a sampling of their song titles: (track 3) taitschi-tarot, (track 6) born in xixax, (track 7) iki maska, and (track 9) cosma shiva. a sampling of lyrics from iki maska: KOMM IKI MASKA LENS GO ZACK ZISCH / LET'S DO THE SPLIT AND I SHIT ON IT / SAGE ICH HA HA HA HA.

i have been mailed a nice postcard from brighton, england.

haven't really submitted anywhere lately. having a pre-self-disqualification stint.

have taken to sudoku puzzles as a zen activity.

need a haircut and an island.

glow into you i will glow

popping tart cherries everywhere and spitting out their knotted stems. popped my saving-lives-with-the-heimlich cherry over the weekend then popped my sleep paralysis/lucid dream cherry last night. there was a black hole and the magnetism hurt. it sucked versions of my room and the dream i was having out the window. felt like resurfacing from miles deep underwater and contracting the bends. today i have a headache.

newness from mud luscious and decomp. great work by meg pokrass, david peak, brandi wells, rauan klassnik, peycho kanev, ethel rohan, and crispin best, among many other snazzy people.

attracted to this pineapple tree cityscape by max kauffman

received a field of colors by charles lennox in the mail and it is stunning. highly attracted to the line about killer whale teeth in 'ladle cupped palms'. the field coexists alongside time markers like 'week' and 'saturday afternoon' and 'days pass' but swallows their linearity and creates its own logic and structure. the field is like a tangent universe or a quilt of sewn memory and experience. at the same time the people and things inhabiting and taking root in the field make it attached and tender and the words are bright and ripe. as i read it i was saying yes repeatedly. not sure whether copies are still available but maybe harass j.a. tyler or charles. it is entirely worth it.

the read some words editorial posse kindly sent me a tea packet with a peach and a pink swan on it and arabic words that say shay al-wazah. arabic and other semitic languages are good if you are left-handed. the peach is 5 times larger than the pink swan. more importantly, they sent me read some words which smells and feels nice and is aesthetically pleasing and features nice groups of words and pixel portraits of its contributors who are michael sambar, dj berndt, tr castillo, ben brooks, michael hessel-mial, ryan manning, david fishkind, adam showalter, zachary zimmerman, jeffrey becklund, cj krueger, and adam coates. i will be requiting the sending of foreign tea to said editorial posse.

july zygote. bradley sands, xtx, more snazzy.

and this issue of ocho is loaded with the best minds of my generation

this post is in HTML hell. is it even legible outside my computer? are there links to aquatic animal porn interspersed throughout? if so i am sorry sometimes that happens when i try to speak

football/soccer

i cheer for the country with the lower GDP

an noun cement

& & &
happy to say i have a chapbook/pamphlet/petite collection forthcoming from bedouin books. also look for ghosts of breath by howie good forthcoming from them this summer.

ouija

pank, gloom cupboard, a post made of names; cardinal directions were invented when the world was still flat

cardinal directions make me start to feel sick because one where tries to be more west than another where. cassette tapes are better obsoletes and better absolutes. i want to fire cassette tapes from cannons as meteorites and people will look at their melting plastic through telescopes, the spools unraveling as liquid licorice. when the cassette husks land, smoldering, they will still play.

i can't tell whether i've pulled a muscle or my heart is beating

been operating under a delay. iranian youth are rioting. polvo is resurrecting.

new things in gloom cupboard and pank. read the june issue of pank in its entirety here. it features some amazing work by summer block, mark budman, kevin brown, john farmer, heather fowler, katherine grosjean, caitlin johnson, tim jones-yelvington, sarah layden, laura lehew, sara faye lieber, cortney mclellan, laura marello, daniel pinkerton, emily rosko, kowshik sarangan, shappy seasholtz and robert swartwood. also recommend checking out the pank blog. also editor roxane gay has a badass piece in dogzplot.

people are shedding bright glassy words all over the place. some i have enjoyed lately :::

shane jones's avocado scratch-and-sniff poem at abjective.

eric beeny's story snowing fireflies at willows wept made me forget to breathe in the best possible way.

i think j.a. tyler's when we take off our heads at pangur ban party is phenomenal. his style has an effect on me similar to philip glass or steve reich. there are little somethings like movements and variations to his work. nuances and refrains. hypnotic maybe. mathematical maybe. he does something unique with words in play. i think my favourites are 3, 6, 7 and 8. everything at pangur ban party is solid plusgood. read the whole back catalogue if you feel so inclined.

the inaugural issue of kill author (roland barthes) is packed to the gills. i love the body of the tennis player by david peak and the end is easy, where do we start by barry graham. the issue also features ani smith, howie good, ethel rohan, j.a. tyler, mel bosworth, xtx, and sara crowley, among other cool people.

also intrigued by the read some words chapbook, featuring ryan manning, dj berndt, adam coates, adam showalter, david fishkind, ben brooks, michael hessel-mial, t.r. castillo, michael sambar, and jeffrey becklund. yesterday the casino/reptile zoo took my money so the apparent freeness of it is a good match.

melonotronic robojuice

issue nine of robot melon is an albino lifesaver spectrum of iris and pupil which is also kind of partially dilated. it makes me want to buy a vowel. i am happy to have a poem called rio in it alongside these utterly badass writers: ani smith, jenna humphrey, sean lovelace, lisa ciccarello, mike young, heather momyer, jamie iredell, peter berghoef, justin hyde, michelle reale, maria anderson, justin dobbs, arlene ang, duncan cheshire, andrew rihn, andrew lundwall, sonny traylor, donald dunbar, and blake butler. props to stephen daniel lewis who is responsible for injecting this directly into your eye.

today is saturday and i have done nothing i said i would

something about antiperspirants and endings at dogzplot. other things i like by ethel rohan, brendan o'brien, dawn corrigan, mike whitney, eric beeny, david peak, and michael j. solender. read and exhale.

currently in many limbos. occupational, locational. thinking about film, newspaper shards, fruit pulp as paint, music composition, microwaves, things more fickle than microwaves. increased apathy being directed toward time as a concept and as a threat.

wrote a small story about owls and outpatient surgical procedures.

74% of the total population is people with a sensing preference on the myers-briggs scale. 26% of the total population is people with an intuitive preference. in mainstream society linearities are more appropriate. literality, minute details, chronological sequences of events are more appropriate. inane banter is always more appropriate. sometimes this makes me socially inept in a drugstore checkout line.

i am wearing a ring made of thunderclouds.

also

fingers crossed for laura ling and euna lee.

update: fuck. current tv you are a pussy. maybe sign this. maybe write to pelosi also.

i can't lift you up because my mind is tired

things are happening IRL and they are making me alive. the aliveness is scary and overwhelming and new and rare and good. i am unsure whether by aliveness i mean optimism. they could be similar. i am unused to optimism. like i am trying on high heeled shoes and, despite associating high heeled shoes with brainlessness, the shoes are oddly comfortable or at least not making my ankles bleed. right now i am walking around the store in gaits uncharacteristic of myself, thinking of height, mythology and shoplifting.

i am on the cusp of certain things. i am trying to claw into a potential career in fair trade or the entertainment industry. because i can think of no two career paths more congruous. i crave variety and choice. routine is for some people but for others routine is cancer. if none of this works out i will move to saskatchewan and become an apple farmer.

los angeles is a place. mostly los angeles is shallow and intended to give people low outward self esteem and high inward self esteem. los angeles also has a surface and a subsurface. there are pockets. if you stay in the subsurface you can enjoy yourself. you can stop feigning interest in the surface. in the subsurface the conversations, the skin, the sweat is real and the real is enough to melt through all the plastic and when that happens the sidewalk will be shiny and you can laugh and walk through the melted fakeness and it will feel like marshmallow around your ankles. probably because i watched ghostbusters yesterday.

this is my friend avey. he is a little bit beautiful. sometimes he asks the sky what he would want.



this is my friend geologist.


he is not an actual geologist but he likes to see at night. he also was interviewed a while back in the fine magazine kitty snacks.

here is what they played



fireworks being my personal highlight. i went inward. i felt thousands of eyes rolling backward. there was a momentary lapse of consciousness. there was a shamanistic divining ceremony. it was right mystic. TTB would approve.

recent dreams include a sunken airplane with its contents and passengers perfectly preserved as they were at the point of impact.

recent discoveries include the fact that 1. soju facilitates karaoke, even if you are socially awkward, 2. if you intend to perform the spasmodic seizure/flail dance to idioteque, move the soju away from microphones and other karaoke equipment to minimize electrocution, and 3. soju is delayed in fucking you up but it will find and destroy you.

also catching up on and enjoying being overwhelmed by all the internet literature news of late. i love love love prathna lor's safe toilet syndrome. prathna lor, blog deletion extraordinaire. prathna lor is hot. my favourites include vulcan, blue sweater, light bulb and somnolence. i am glad i am not the only one who fills her bed with debris and sleeps in it. maybe we should do lunch, prathna lor.

also excited about the new pear noir!, mlkng sckls by justin sirois, a field of colors by charles lennox in tandem with j.a. tyler's ML press, new things at dogzplot (new to me anyway), the new hobart, and sam pink's frowns need friends too.

still need to return correspondence.
news is forthcoming.