lines written with a razor
My poem, “Fermentation”, is up on lines written with a razor. Click here to read it and then go read the other poems.
Signs That Clearly Point Your Gig Is Doomed
1. When an organizer doesn’t release the names of the readers at an event until four days before the event takes place.
2. When an organizer doesn’t try corralling people to come see you read when it’s your time to perform.
3. People molest your books, smile when they read the poems, and yet don’t buy a copy.
4. When the venue warns you it’s a bad idea to do a poetry show at that time of night on a Saturday and you try any way.
5. When an organizer is surprised a handful of people show up at your event despite a football game.
What I’ve learned:
1. You should be at a bookfair as a featured author not a vendor if you want to sell your books.
2. Listen to a venue’s recommendation about why you shouldn’t be there.
3. Avoid Sundays unless the venue has a poetry event that day that has a consistent following.
4. Book features at structured events only.
5. Unless you know the promoter, treat them like they don’t know what they’re doing and flyer the living hell out of a city before you go on.
St. Pete, I come for you next. I know we are going to get along very well.
wtf pwm 1.1
My poem “Transposed” is up on wtf pwm. Click here to read it and then go read the rest of this awesome issue.
wtf pwm preview
wtf pwm goes live this Monday. Check out below its contributors for the debut issue.
vis a tergo
My poem, “The Kama Sutra of the Basilisk”, is up on vis a tergo. Click here to read the poem and then go check out the rest of the issue.
Some Things
I am now on PANK Magazine’s staff as a copy editor. Part of my job also includes compiling interview questions with each of the issue’s contributors in a given month. This is going to be incredibly fun.
Next week is my first out of town gigs ever here and here. I hope I come back intact.
Finally, what’s the weirdest writing exercise you’ve encountered? Please share.
Happy Halloween: Now, Sober Up And Go Home.
The Kama Sutra of November 1
I will misinterpret your thighs
like a Ouija board, spill
onto your neck like alcohol,
unmask your denial.
We will moan, fail
like a seance; pay no mind
to our skeletons watching
from the closet.
Dead Poets Slam
Tonight is Broken Speech’s annual Dead Poets Slam, the one night where dead poets and rappers come back from the dead and slam for bragging rights in Hell. It’s at Stardust Video & Coffee (1842 Winter Park Rd) starting around 9:30pm or so. To sign up, e-mail slam@brokenspeech.com or show up before the slam begins. Click here for all the details.
