Live from 37th & Lexington
Both shows were received well here in the Empire State. A more detailed update to come with photos. We avoided snowpocalypse coming up and now I’m hoping we can avoid it coming back so we aren’t stuck another day here. Don’t get me wrong, I like New York but I like short sleeves more.
By the way, my story “Travelogue”, is in amphibi.us. Click here to check it out and then peruse the rest of this ongoing magazine.
I Cough Porn Beats
My wife hosted her annual erotica slam at our slam venue and I wrote the poem below just for the occasion. My hands were tied behind my back as part of the show. I’m not kidding.
Optometry
Let’s pretend that ass
is the cyclops from The Odyssey
and my tongue’s a sharpened olive club;
it’ll make more sense when you yell “no one”
when I ask “Who else treats your pucker
like a five star supper?”
Let’s pretend that ass
idles like a truck outside Home Depot
looking for day laborers to put up dry wall
and my mouth’s the cheap labor
who ruins your frame and foundation.
Let’s pretend your ass cheeks
are storm clouds in Haiti;
when I go to part them
you shout “not now, too soon.”
I’ve made my hand a duck drowning
in your pond, watched vodka
and my futon cock block me
when I wanted to get it on,
let you redeem me like a coupon
but the world needs to know
the Kama Sutra below your waist,
how much I love to let my face
crash into your taint like a dead end,
my tongue writhing like gasoline
and flame.
I know I could wear Hep B
like a retainer, coat my throat
in atoms of what you had for lunch
but when you moan like iron gates
at an abandoned mansion,
the news will report a rash of people
found in hotel tubs, drowning in ice
and missing their livers.
I take what I do seriously
until you set a bounty
for the pages in dictionaries
and thesauruses that have
some variation of the word “enough”
so you can fold them into children
and abandon them.
So tonight, after you hear this,
we’re going into a public bathroom.
I will kiss you until your lips have epilepsy
before I make that ass an edible rosary.
These Are Thoughts
I came home to Matt DeBenedictis’s CONGRATULATIONS! THERE’S NO LAST PLACE IF EVERYONE IS DEAD and the only bad thing I can say about it is I wanted more of DeBenedictis’s brand of mayhem in my pocket. However, it is a fist of brilliance and the extras you get with the book are equally superb. The price based on the production quality, content, and the bonus material is a steal. The awesomely sad thing is only 50 copies exist. Go here to buy it before it becomes extinct. It’ll be the best $5 bucks you’ve spent this decade.
Had a show last Thursday in Indianapolis at Lazy Daze Coffee House and it went o.k. I was a little awkward because I didn’t rehearse enough but I think the people liked me, not enough to buy books though. If I could convert applause or awkward silence into currency, I would.
Interesting symmetry: the host of the open mic at Lazy Daze kept coming up to do poems because no one else was really coming up to perform and that kind of thing looks desperate to an audience. Later, a poet at my slam decided to do an impromptu feature because no one came to the slam that night, much to my surprise; that also looks desperate to an audience. There’s a certain dignity of going away quietly, something I’ve learned the hard way in a couple of my shows during the mini-tour.
Speaking of tour: this muppet invades Manhattan in a week at the following places
SUNDAY FEBRUARY 7 2010 4 PM CAKESHOP 152 LUDLOW STREET NYC – LAUNCH PARTY for WHEN YOU SAY ONE THING BUT MEAN YOUR MOTHER by melissa broder
with j. bradley and joseph riippi
(sidebar: yes it is the SuperBowl – however the three of us together does not happen once a year – it happens as much as a unicorn ejaculates in your food: almost never)
Monday, February 8 @ 7pm: Saturn Series Poetry Reading Nightingale Lounge 213 East 13th Street, at 2nd Ave. – $3.00 Donation $10 Minimum at the Bar.
The former set gives me only 15 minutes to work with and I go first. The latter set gives me more time. No two sets will be alike to come check out both if you can.
Tuesday, I am not doing a show. I am doing something semi-touristy and awesome: the missus and I are going to see A View From the Bridge, the Arthur Miller revival at The Cort Theatre. I’ve seen musicals on Broadway before but never a play and my wife’s a huge fan of Miller so it’s a win-win for the both of us. I would have gone to the Bowery for the slam but this is way cooler (no offense, BPC).
Finally, check out PANK’s blog. I’m writing the interviews this month. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.
Charity
The other day, I told my mother I got a piece of fiction accepted in a magazine. When she asked if I was getting paid for it and I said no, she yelled at me for being a published author giving away work for free. Fellow writers: are we giving away our work for free?
From a financial perspective, probably. Most lit magazines are not momentarily paying markets. Those that publish traditional paper magazines pay in copies, a rough retail value of $5-$10. Those that are electric pay nothing but are very easy to access by all. It’s easier to point people in the direction of your online publication through social networking sites like Twitter & Facebook rather than encourage people to pay $5-$10 for a magazine that contains one of your poems or stories.
From a reputation perspective, hardly. Reputation is more important than money. A good reputation leads you to amazing people and amazing opportunities that can lead to financial gain if you play your cards right.
What would it be like if all of us only submitted to paying markets? What would the literary landscape look like from an editorial perspective and a content perspective?
Keep giving it away “for free”. You’ll be surprised what you really earn in the long run.
La Petite Zine
Five of my poems are up on La Petite Zine. Click here to check them out and then go check out the other issues.
I’m blacklisted
Two of my poems are up on Black-Listed Magazine. Click here to check them out.
Short, Fast, and Deadly: Issue 6
Three of my poems are up on this week’s issue of Short, Fast, and Deadly. Click here to check them out.
Killing Time
Yesterday, I had several hours between when I arrived in Ft. Lauderdale and my show at Write Side Poets Cafe so I wandered around downtown until I found a coffee shop with free Wi-Fi (helpful tip: go toward the direction of the historical/arts district in any city and you will find at least one coffee shop – this has been true in all the cities I’ve stopped at). In this coffee shop, I watched some folks film a scene that involved some sort of shady deal between the two characters, the usual “do you know this person – yeah I know this person – why do you want to do this – I don’t want to do this because I don’t trust this person – let’s take a walk to talk more about it” sort of thing that goes on when two characters in a movie talk about a potentially shady deal. If only the shady deal was about something interesting, like manticore ovaries or kraken cockrings, but hohum it’s money and violence like always. No one threatens with hugs anymore.
