"I am an idealistic, naive, passionate, truth-seeking, spiritually motivated artist, unschooled in the science of law and finance." --Wesley Snipes

Saturday, May 22, 2004


On this day of May 22, the Year of Our Lord 2004, I have made a fine inventory of all things poetickal sprung from my pen in the recent months. I've discovered this:

Since January, I've written only 11 poems. The titles of these poems (lucky error 2?) are: "Twelve for Joshua," "Songs for Sanity," "Sheepfighting," "Each Other's Arms," "Cardboard Tubes," "Something for After," "Focus on Sainty," "Boxcar Waiting," "Cautionary Tale," and two unnamed "gothickish sonnets."

If these eleven poems are the germ/kernel/yeast of a new post-lucky error collection, I'll be very happy. So far, the subjects of these poems are: mundane-but-functional household items, Nick Twemlow and Josh Edwards, lines stolen from pop songs, being stood up in St. Louis, and rhymin' & stealin'. A concept is slowly forming. Anyway, all these poems are up for grabs (actually, I wrote another couple this year, but those are taken...these eleven represent my unpublished output this annum). Who wants them?


Form rejection today from BWR. More to come, I'm sure.


I feel like writing occasional poems to friends, cyber and otherwise. The first three people to place something witty in the comment box will get specially-crafted, fat-free, hig-carb poems of their own. Do something good for yourself.


I might write a song about listening to the Mountain Goats and smoking hash with Aaron Belz. Except I never really smoked hash with Belz, but would if the chance presented itself. When Belz picked me up at the airport he was listening to Surfer Rosa in his cute little car. I also had the pleasure of seeing Carmine Appice of Vanilla Fudge at the baggage claim. His mustache was huge.


Julie said...

You could probably give Belz a six pack of root beer and a couple Snickers bars and get similar results, you know.

Where's my poem?

Reb said...

Witty, hmm, it's kind of late and my eyes are burning from cigarette smoke. How about this advice from one of my recent I-Ching readings:

Introspection does not mean escaping into the fantasy world of your own dreams.


Avoid regarding perceptive people merely as tools to further your own work; their value is greater than that.

Anonymous said...

Hey, non-blogger Belz here. St. Louis is shiny and wet tonight. We have had lots of rain in the past few weeks. Good thing I'm high as a kite. Pass the Visine.

Scott said...

...glad it wasn't me... I'd have went all fanboy over Carmine Appice of Vanilla Fudge.