YO!

our beautiful and sassy ana c has put out a chapbook! YAY ANA!!!!! it's called make-believe love-making and i've already ordered my copy and you should go order yours too because there will only be 69 copies made (and YES, i think that joke is on purpose). GO! GO! GO!

i am lucky number 7

our fair Ana C. has started an online poetry magazine called new wave vomit and it is RAD RAD RAD! of course it is! because Ana C. is RAD RAD RAD! these are the facts. these facts are fantastic! fucking fantastic, to be precise.

she has published one of my "pieces". i don't know what it is. it is both a visual artwork and a poem, i suppose. redaction has a long long LONG history in poetry. but i think about redacted police documents when i make these things. and i picture it in a nice frame on a gallery wall hanging right next to a big oil painting, standing its own ground with the big dogs, functioning like art with a capital A. that's just me though.

thank you, Ana, for lending me your space. i love everything you do!

expiring

some poems need to die. or at least not follow you around forever. they need a time-line, and end-date. and this is why i like what ana c. is doing. she is RAD! and i was bashful about the idea at first but today while i was running i got a bit brave and thought that maybe it'd be a good thing to do... to let a poem gain mortality. it will expire. they all will expire. these are poems about expiring. i am number 30. you should be number 31. my fair rebecca is number 20. everyone is fair and wonderful: a number counting toward the end. submit.