Tuesday, October 29, 2013

published in The dVerse Anthology

okay, so this happened a while ago, in late July (and yes, I'm only just now getting to it...), but I had 3 poems published in a physical book: "The dVerse Anthology: Voices of Contemporary World Poetry". This was very exciting for me, as it was my first publication in a book that was not in some way connected to school/stuff. It is edited by Frank Watson and contains poetry from poets located throughout the entire world.

So anyway, here's the link to buying the book. I doubt there's an online copy to read for free. So if you are rich enough to actually buy it, do so and read my poems. There are other good poets/poetry in there, too; so, you know, 'justification'.

dream i just had (10/29/13)

i was in a room and there was a group of ppl behind me and i was sitting down towards the front, but there were two ppl (a man and a woman) and they looked shady and I saw the woman taking tags off of merchandise, but i ignored her. well, there was a priest there at the front of the room and he was holding confessions in front but quietly, so eventually, i go up there and he puts his hands on my arms and directs me to stand facing the room while he is behind me, then pulls me around so he and i are both facing away from the ppl in the room, and he pulls me in close so i can feel his small hard dick on my leg and he's rubbing his sock'd foot on my foot and he asks what i have to confess, and I say 'Nothing' and he sounds skeptical, but to get him to leave me alone, i tell him that i just wanted to let him know that the two ppl in the corner are stealing and he says they (the organization that was selling the merchandise to begin with) won't be selling things for very much longer. so i walk away and sit down and then the woman who had been stealing turns into a slightly more confident-seeming woman and she says the priest's car is fucked or something and he's gotta go, so he goes, and then this woman is a different woman, a girl i work with, but with a limp, and she tells me that my car is all messed up and I say, "I beg your pardon" and stand up and walk through the room of ppl to the back of the place and walk down stairs and she's following behind me and i am angry that she has called me out in front of an entire group of ppl and i don't believe her because i think she's the police or something, but so i help her down the steps since she has a limp and i don't see my car and i'm like, 'i don't see it' and then she leads me down a couple steps and then up a few steps onto a deck overlooking a parking lot and right beneath me is the white 1996 Ford Crown Victoria that i used to drive in Indiana before i moved to Chicago and didn't need to drive anymore, and it's fine and i'm like 'what are you even talking about?' and the girl that i work with but has a limp now says 'really, sweetie, that's "fine"?' and i look again and there are some dents and scratches, which are explainable bc i had been in a few auto accidents, but then a truck drives by and it crushes the back driver side of my trunk and it's ruined, and then i see that the car really is fucked up bc the hood area is all smashed up and the front window is shattered, so i run down stairs and the girl comes down them and i help her and we get outside and i'm looking at it and i'm in disbelief and then someone is like, 'we found this' and hands me a sledgehammer with a small head and a handle the color of neon-Chartreuse Green and i'm freaked out now bc this means that someone purposefully attacked my car and smashed it and i'm not sure if they have it out for me specifically or if they were just doing it for fun and i'm not sure which is more upsetting. And then I was awake.

Monday, October 28, 2013

don't know

Sing, sing on, you songstress of glory, of lullabies:
Uphold our values, proclaim our greatness;
For, if we be great, my lady, surely you are she who made it thus.

notes from a dr

watch the salt to lower blood

r hand arthrites doing good

make measurements for medicine
next time: 4 blood pressure

if hallucinations/confusion
worsens, let dr know

next appointment at 2:15pm

Meeee tooooo

Read somewhere that
the ability to be creative
is linked to having a mental illness
and this, i think, is a good answer
to the question:
Why am i never happy?

For if i am happy
in my everyday life,
i cannot write satisfactorily;
but if i am able to write
in a way that i feel is 'good',
then i am able to do so only
as a result of my unhappiness
with my everyday life.

there are phone calls that i need to make

There are ppl who hate me
And i know not everyone will like me
And i know there are ppl who hate me
And that's okay,
But the ppl i had in mind when i wrote that first line
Are people who i don't want to hate me.
But i am a shitty person,
i am a bad person,
So those people hate me anyway.

How do ppl find me attractive?

why are straight guys so attractive?
bc they're not like me

even though you're skinny

you are beautiful
and you know it
and i love it

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Saturday, October 5, 2013

caffeine drive

personal proclivity

veer into oncoming traffic

feel alive, feel awake

mentally embrace all living, dead, and nonliving things

and know that i love you too

suicidal mineral water

sports are the closest
we can get
to publicly admitting that
we, as an animal species,
enjoy watching & participating in
actual, physical violence.

if you haven't heard Hundred Waters' eponymous debut, then you don't know the meaning of 'beautiful'

the natural ebb and flow of friendship

slick teeth, smooth lips

you have to have taste to taste

its really cool that we're supposed to eat mushrooms
we are meant to eat funguses

Thursday, October 3, 2013

review of "The Persistence of Crows" by Grant Maierhofer

here is a link to a review on I AM ALT LIT of "The Persistence of Crows" by Grant Maierhofer:


it's a good book and will be released Oct. 8th. Also, if you pre-order the novel, you can save yourself a few bucks. Definitely a good deal. Check it out!