go here to read ocho 25. it was edited by blake butler. it includes work by many badasses.
nothing else to say right now. maybe i'll update this post with rabbits that i scanned into the computer at a later date.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
lines
i wrote a collaborative poem with sasha fletcher. it was the most fun i've had writing something in a long while.
hello
i have nothing inside of me
i smell god baking cookies or something way up there in heaven
i want to go there, but i will not
the skeleton composed a symphony in my closet and the notes wept through until the knob fell off the door and i kissed my sweetness into the air
lettuce can heal
the father does not like the taste of lamb, but i do
i eat lamb like eating means something
i need space to think about what i am going to say next
hello
wut up?
oh, nuttin
just hangin' out with some bros
cool, that's really cool. i feel happy for you
thanks, dude
sure thing, man
MORTAL KOMBAT
hello
i have nothing inside of me
i smell god baking cookies or something way up there in heaven
i want to go there, but i will not
the skeleton composed a symphony in my closet and the notes wept through until the knob fell off the door and i kissed my sweetness into the air
lettuce can heal
the father does not like the taste of lamb, but i do
i eat lamb like eating means something
i need space to think about what i am going to say next
hello
wut up?
oh, nuttin
just hangin' out with some bros
cool, that's really cool. i feel happy for you
thanks, dude
sure thing, man
MORTAL KOMBAT
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
retard post
i'm having a hard time figuring out what to write in this blog post. i haven't been online in over two weeks, and i feel, at this point, like i'm blogging out of obligation, like if i don't blog today this blog will be one more thing in the world without purpose or meaning, and i don't want things in the world without purpose or meaning, which is a sad and pointless way to think about anything because fuck.
the publication of THE DRUNK SONNETS keeps getting closer and closer. i need to email mike and ask him if he needs me to do anything. i guess, maybe, he'll read this post and say something. no, i'm going to email him now. my role, so far, in the making of this book has been pretty absent, which is kind of nice, i guess, but i feel kind of like i've been given a lazy, don't worry about it pass. i like to worry about things and work on things.
i've been not worrying about the book i've been working on lately, which means i haven't been working on it. the last thing i did to the book was retype a 3,000-some word poem and change a few small things. the biggest thing now is trying to figure out if this is one book of poetry or two smaller books of poetry. and is the 3,000-some word poem its own thing?
on the way here, i was thinking about how much i like to say "badass shit." and by that, i don't mean "statements of a badass nature." i mean the phrase "badass shit."
for example...
dude: hey dan, what are you going to do tonight?
me: badass shit.
dude: cool. i don't even have to ask for clarification because i know exactly what you mean by "badass shit."
me: yup
i'm trying to decide whether it would be cooler to live underwater or in outer space. i don't think there's an answer to that.
i want to start writing fiction under the name yagdom shmaynog. i need a cooler name. daniel bailey is boring. having a weird name would get me more publications, i think, which is not an actual important thing, but it is, because it feels good for maybe two to three minutes upon being accepted and then two to three minutes upon seeing your work in published form.
i've always thought it would be a good decision to write like five books and just write the hell out of them until they're something and never show them to anyone, until one day i would just send them all out and have like five books that i care about because i was no one when i wrote them and those books are me now and maybe people will read them and people would know me somehow, not in a fame way, but in a way like holding hands or something. shane jones' post from a few days back talks about this in a different and more coherent way.
i read matthew simmon's
a jello horse while at the laundromat the other day. it's a great book. it's written in the second person, which i really like when it's done right (and matthew does it right), and the voice just seems sad and resigned like the "you" is really "me" and "i have to say it like this or else i won't say it at all." good job, matthew simmons.
i have three days off from work, which means three days without free meals. how am i going to feed myself tonight? i feel helpless and hungry. i don't even remember the last time i went to a grocery store.
here is a list of foods that i really like:
pizza
hot sandwiches
cold sandwiches
tacos
burritos
spaghetti
chinese food, in general
thai noodle dishes
hot dogs
cheese burgers
macaroni and cheese
i just had this thought that all foods are the same foods. except for fruits and vegetables. those are different from the foods that i eat the most.
i am typing like a retard. i am going to keep typing like a retard now while talking about something that isn't food-related.
what i want to talk about now is why is it hard to make decisions in life and assert myself. confidence seems pointless because confidence is based on knowing something that is unknowable. i can feel confident that talking to a girl is the thing to do because something good will come of it, but whatever dude. i don't know that. i like to type like a retard while thinking "i am going to grad school in august. i am a smart dude who types all retarded-like. i like doing badass shit." look at what i just wrote. people who don't know how to read can't read what i just wrote. that does not make them retarded. being able to read this would probably make them retarded. what if i could fit my head into a hole in a tree and it turned out that the hole was filled with bees and they all stung my head until my head was swollen so big that i couldn't get my head out of the tree. that would really suck. i'm not going to do that ever. typing this paragraph feels good. it feels therapeutic. it's like i am touching the inside of me with large vibrating metaphysical dildo and setting off a chain reaction of smiles inside my face and my chest. my throat is expanding. not typing this paragraph like a retard would be a really dick move on my part because typing this paragraph is helping me feel better about my life and like right now my purpose is to type this like a retard. so i type this like a retard and feel thankful that there is not a storm right now that will cut off the power to this computer. hey guys, guess what? whenever it storms i get a bunch of tiny little boners in my nerves that perk up and start running about fucking each other. it's really great. did you know that i am a published poet? yeah, i knew that too. look at me typing like a retard. i feel pretty retarded right now. i want to sit down so hard into this chair that i disappear into the floor and everyone will be like "where'd that guy go?" and then i would pop out of the floor at them like "surprise!" and then we would hug and make out against the bookshelves. i think making out is cool because you are actually licking the inside of another person's mouth, which is pretty funny and cool. i can't believe most people don't just start laughing while making out because it's pretty ridiculous. i have never laughed at this while making out. the next time i make out with someone i will probably start laughing about this and it will be like this forever - oh god my making out days are over! no they're not. i have the ability to stay focused in times of the make out. who wants to make out with me? i am a published poet, did you know that? i have a book coming out in the fall from magic helicopter press. it is called the drunk sonnets and i wrote it when i was very depressed. it would be a great thing to put on waterwings and go off a very tall waterfall together all believing "these water wings will save us from certain death and destruction. no waterfall can push us down to our deaths as long as we are wearing these water wings." i don't know if i believe in miracles, but i know that weird shit happens sometimes and it happens in a way that suggests god. but i don't think it's god. one time when i was a kid i tried to do a flip and i landed on the top of my skull but i didn't break my neck. that wasn't a miracle. it was just a stupid thing to do. i just stared at the screen for a very long time thinking about nothing. i was probably thinking about nothing but when i think now about what i was thinking nothing happens. it is empty. it is like a hole inside of a hole. i am going to go home now. i am going to think about food. i am going to eat food somehow. my life will continue. calories will explode inside my body and i will be forced into movement. hell yes. k bye.
the publication of THE DRUNK SONNETS keeps getting closer and closer. i need to email mike and ask him if he needs me to do anything. i guess, maybe, he'll read this post and say something. no, i'm going to email him now. my role, so far, in the making of this book has been pretty absent, which is kind of nice, i guess, but i feel kind of like i've been given a lazy, don't worry about it pass. i like to worry about things and work on things.
i've been not worrying about the book i've been working on lately, which means i haven't been working on it. the last thing i did to the book was retype a 3,000-some word poem and change a few small things. the biggest thing now is trying to figure out if this is one book of poetry or two smaller books of poetry. and is the 3,000-some word poem its own thing?
on the way here, i was thinking about how much i like to say "badass shit." and by that, i don't mean "statements of a badass nature." i mean the phrase "badass shit."
for example...
dude: hey dan, what are you going to do tonight?
me: badass shit.
dude: cool. i don't even have to ask for clarification because i know exactly what you mean by "badass shit."
me: yup
i'm trying to decide whether it would be cooler to live underwater or in outer space. i don't think there's an answer to that.
i want to start writing fiction under the name yagdom shmaynog. i need a cooler name. daniel bailey is boring. having a weird name would get me more publications, i think, which is not an actual important thing, but it is, because it feels good for maybe two to three minutes upon being accepted and then two to three minutes upon seeing your work in published form.
i've always thought it would be a good decision to write like five books and just write the hell out of them until they're something and never show them to anyone, until one day i would just send them all out and have like five books that i care about because i was no one when i wrote them and those books are me now and maybe people will read them and people would know me somehow, not in a fame way, but in a way like holding hands or something. shane jones' post from a few days back talks about this in a different and more coherent way.
i read matthew simmon's
a jello horse while at the laundromat the other day. it's a great book. it's written in the second person, which i really like when it's done right (and matthew does it right), and the voice just seems sad and resigned like the "you" is really "me" and "i have to say it like this or else i won't say it at all." good job, matthew simmons.
i have three days off from work, which means three days without free meals. how am i going to feed myself tonight? i feel helpless and hungry. i don't even remember the last time i went to a grocery store.
here is a list of foods that i really like:
pizza
hot sandwiches
cold sandwiches
tacos
burritos
spaghetti
chinese food, in general
thai noodle dishes
hot dogs
cheese burgers
macaroni and cheese
i just had this thought that all foods are the same foods. except for fruits and vegetables. those are different from the foods that i eat the most.
i am typing like a retard. i am going to keep typing like a retard now while talking about something that isn't food-related.
what i want to talk about now is why is it hard to make decisions in life and assert myself. confidence seems pointless because confidence is based on knowing something that is unknowable. i can feel confident that talking to a girl is the thing to do because something good will come of it, but whatever dude. i don't know that. i like to type like a retard while thinking "i am going to grad school in august. i am a smart dude who types all retarded-like. i like doing badass shit." look at what i just wrote. people who don't know how to read can't read what i just wrote. that does not make them retarded. being able to read this would probably make them retarded. what if i could fit my head into a hole in a tree and it turned out that the hole was filled with bees and they all stung my head until my head was swollen so big that i couldn't get my head out of the tree. that would really suck. i'm not going to do that ever. typing this paragraph feels good. it feels therapeutic. it's like i am touching the inside of me with large vibrating metaphysical dildo and setting off a chain reaction of smiles inside my face and my chest. my throat is expanding. not typing this paragraph like a retard would be a really dick move on my part because typing this paragraph is helping me feel better about my life and like right now my purpose is to type this like a retard. so i type this like a retard and feel thankful that there is not a storm right now that will cut off the power to this computer. hey guys, guess what? whenever it storms i get a bunch of tiny little boners in my nerves that perk up and start running about fucking each other. it's really great. did you know that i am a published poet? yeah, i knew that too. look at me typing like a retard. i feel pretty retarded right now. i want to sit down so hard into this chair that i disappear into the floor and everyone will be like "where'd that guy go?" and then i would pop out of the floor at them like "surprise!" and then we would hug and make out against the bookshelves. i think making out is cool because you are actually licking the inside of another person's mouth, which is pretty funny and cool. i can't believe most people don't just start laughing while making out because it's pretty ridiculous. i have never laughed at this while making out. the next time i make out with someone i will probably start laughing about this and it will be like this forever - oh god my making out days are over! no they're not. i have the ability to stay focused in times of the make out. who wants to make out with me? i am a published poet, did you know that? i have a book coming out in the fall from magic helicopter press. it is called the drunk sonnets and i wrote it when i was very depressed. it would be a great thing to put on waterwings and go off a very tall waterfall together all believing "these water wings will save us from certain death and destruction. no waterfall can push us down to our deaths as long as we are wearing these water wings." i don't know if i believe in miracles, but i know that weird shit happens sometimes and it happens in a way that suggests god. but i don't think it's god. one time when i was a kid i tried to do a flip and i landed on the top of my skull but i didn't break my neck. that wasn't a miracle. it was just a stupid thing to do. i just stared at the screen for a very long time thinking about nothing. i was probably thinking about nothing but when i think now about what i was thinking nothing happens. it is empty. it is like a hole inside of a hole. i am going to go home now. i am going to think about food. i am going to eat food somehow. my life will continue. calories will explode inside my body and i will be forced into movement. hell yes. k bye.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
polaroids of dracula's momma's pussay
got a haircut today, now i'm dealing with the 'oh shit, i don't know if that was a good idea' nerves.
here are two recently released ebooks that i like...
safe toilet syndrome by prathna lor
and
dick by nathan logan
i think nate's is the better ebook because he wrote a poem about me and used a rap lyric that i wrote as the title. you're not truly hip-hop until you've been sampled.
good job nate. good job prathna. good job dj. good job colin. good job internet.
also, shaun gannon has a blog now. way to go, shaun. you are part of something now.
i don't know how to say anything that is something anymore on this blog.
i think instead of blogging and writing poetry i'm going to focus all of my energy on my russian shawn kemp character (which almost got me beat up last night).
ok bye.
here are two recently released ebooks that i like...
safe toilet syndrome by prathna lor
and
dick by nathan logan
i think nate's is the better ebook because he wrote a poem about me and used a rap lyric that i wrote as the title. you're not truly hip-hop until you've been sampled.
good job nate. good job prathna. good job dj. good job colin. good job internet.
also, shaun gannon has a blog now. way to go, shaun. you are part of something now.
i don't know how to say anything that is something anymore on this blog.
i think instead of blogging and writing poetry i'm going to focus all of my energy on my russian shawn kemp character (which almost got me beat up last night).
ok bye.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
you wanna know what mother natured for real?
today i was walking to the library, and i started thinking, "i'd like to blow cigarette smoke into an ant farm until every ant is dead and the smoke is too thick to see through the glass."
hello, everyone. i hope your day has been pleasant.
i'm working on a collection of poems right now. i thought there should be some news in this post. some old blog stuff, some other older stuff, some new poems i've been writing lately.
writing poems keeps getting harder and harder to do. like i don't have the strength sometime. i feel like a sculptor who's used to modeling clay or something, and now i'm trying to chisel out a cold fucking mountain with no idea why i'm defacing the earth like that and what i'm trying to say with it.
i've been lacking mental clarity lately. i think i need to get out of muncie for a few days, which will happen next week when my brother graduates high school. i think i'm going to buy him a case of beer and a tattoo.
i like this ebook by drew kalbach.
what is an exciting thing to do on a tuesday night?
what about wednesdays?
how many pairs of shoes can a person own before that person can fairly be labeled insane?
i want to break into a bible factory and drink the ink that would be used to spell the message of the lord.
if you walk into a room that smells like baby and there is no baby in the room, then shit.
what do you do when you are walking down the street and you find a wallet with a bunch of space currency?
and a bunch of other fun things too
good night.
hello, everyone. i hope your day has been pleasant.
i'm working on a collection of poems right now. i thought there should be some news in this post. some old blog stuff, some other older stuff, some new poems i've been writing lately.
writing poems keeps getting harder and harder to do. like i don't have the strength sometime. i feel like a sculptor who's used to modeling clay or something, and now i'm trying to chisel out a cold fucking mountain with no idea why i'm defacing the earth like that and what i'm trying to say with it.
i've been lacking mental clarity lately. i think i need to get out of muncie for a few days, which will happen next week when my brother graduates high school. i think i'm going to buy him a case of beer and a tattoo.
i like this ebook by drew kalbach.
what is an exciting thing to do on a tuesday night?
what about wednesdays?
how many pairs of shoes can a person own before that person can fairly be labeled insane?
i want to break into a bible factory and drink the ink that would be used to spell the message of the lord.
if you walk into a room that smells like baby and there is no baby in the room, then shit.
what do you do when you are walking down the street and you find a wallet with a bunch of space currency?
and a bunch of other fun things too
good night.
Friday, May 22, 2009
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
did you know that james tate is black?
yes, james tate is black.
james tate is black is a new school of poetry. to be a part of this movement, all you have to do is believe that james tate is black and then write a poem called "JAMES TATE IS BLACK," or something very close to that.
it would mean a lot to me, and to the well-being of humanity, if everyone who reads this writes a poem about james tate's blackness and emails said poem to me. ------>hisnameisdan(at)gmail(dot)com
this movement already has four members. here are our poems.
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
AN INPOEMERCIAL
by shaun gannon
WELCOME TO THE NINETIES, GENTLEMEN
SING IT LOUD AND SING IT PROUD
YOUR WORDS ARE GETTING LONG IN THE TOOTH
LET ME HELP YOU
I AM SHAUN GANNON AND JAMES TATE IS BLACK
IMAGES ARE STUPID, YOU SEE THEM ALL THE TIME
YOUR VIEWPOINT IS STUPID, YOU SEE IT ALL THE TIME
LISTEN TO ME NOT YOU
LISTEN TO US NOT THEM
HOW ABOUT A KISS, FOR GOOD LUCK
HOW ABOUT MY FIST, FOR YOUR FACE
SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST REMEMBER
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
PLEASE TELL JAMES TATE HE IS BLACK
HE MAY OR MAY NOT BE AWARE
CALL YOUR MOM AND READ HER YOUR POEMS
CALL THE POLICE AND READ THEM YOUR POEMS
CALL THE POLICE ON YOUR MOM
LISTEN TO THE POLICE WHILE CALLING YOUR MOM
LISTEN TO YOUR MOM
LISTEN TO ME NOT YOUR MOM
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
by joe mchugh
This is not about James Tate being black
though he is.
This is not even about James Tate
though something's got to be
and this might be it.
This is about realty – no
I mean reality,
and not the reality of house buying
though that is a reality in which many people participate.
James Tate, for example, has probably purchased a house.
Okay we can begin now.
James Tate is, in actuality
black. His black is very black.
It is blacker than a black
Crayola crayon wrapper,
which I guess is actually gray,
but a really dark, almost black kind of gray.
When James Tate wears a disco coat
people say he is a cloudless night
and they begin sleeping under him.
Or, if they are third-shifters, they start toiling inside him.
That horrific crime that James Tate did
which nobody found out about –
he did it because he is black.
Everybody knows that
if black was a verb, it would be similar to the word “crime,”
if it was also a verb.
If James Tate was a verb,
its only two synonyms would be “to evolve,” and
“James Tate black crime verb.”
By now, it should be obvious that this doesn’t even pertain
to James Tate or his blackness.
James Tate is just a name
given to a black boy when he was born
which he used as a memory device later in life
for people who wanted to read more of his word arrangements
and funny logic, when they were displayed in lines and stanzas.
All of this means that James Tate is black
and nothing people ever do or say should change
your perception of that fact.
Now go home.
JAMES TATE BLACK
by daniel bailey
James Tate put 5 babies in 3 different baby-mamas pre-balldrop
James Tate born in the trunk of a stoleass escalade
James Tate fro so big he give up on hats
James Tate T.I. mixtape
James Tate black and he know it
James Tate drug free, yeah right
James Tate gallon of skol vokka, jus sip, sip, sippin
James Tate seen the 60's
James Tate been there
James Tate persevere
James Tate National Book Award
James Tate The Lost Pilot mixtape
James Tate need love too
James Tate upside-down on the monkey bars, mid-life crisis
James Tate equal-opportunity employed at UMass-Amherst
James Tate racism ain't dead yet
James Tate smokin kools
James Tate 40 oz. love
James Tate feel out of place in Massachussets
James Tate smoke weed for glaucoma
James Tate dick too big for tight jeans
James Tate defjam guilty pleasure
James Tate possible Saul Williams collab
James Tate Barack Obama bumper sticker
James Tate up all night reflectin on the past
James Tate aight though
James Tate black
James Tate is Black
by Ryan Rader
James Tate is black
and i am white
I find it funny
to look back
at my dumb face
opening to gasp
at the news
that james tate is white
and I never knew.
I'd take it all back,
but it feels alright
to mix my blacks
up with my whites.
yes, james tate is black.
james tate is black is a new school of poetry. to be a part of this movement, all you have to do is believe that james tate is black and then write a poem called "JAMES TATE IS BLACK," or something very close to that.
it would mean a lot to me, and to the well-being of humanity, if everyone who reads this writes a poem about james tate's blackness and emails said poem to me. ------>hisnameisdan(at)gmail(dot)com
this movement already has four members. here are our poems.
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
AN INPOEMERCIAL
by shaun gannon
WELCOME TO THE NINETIES, GENTLEMEN
SING IT LOUD AND SING IT PROUD
YOUR WORDS ARE GETTING LONG IN THE TOOTH
LET ME HELP YOU
I AM SHAUN GANNON AND JAMES TATE IS BLACK
IMAGES ARE STUPID, YOU SEE THEM ALL THE TIME
YOUR VIEWPOINT IS STUPID, YOU SEE IT ALL THE TIME
LISTEN TO ME NOT YOU
LISTEN TO US NOT THEM
HOW ABOUT A KISS, FOR GOOD LUCK
HOW ABOUT MY FIST, FOR YOUR FACE
SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST REMEMBER
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
PLEASE TELL JAMES TATE HE IS BLACK
HE MAY OR MAY NOT BE AWARE
CALL YOUR MOM AND READ HER YOUR POEMS
CALL THE POLICE AND READ THEM YOUR POEMS
CALL THE POLICE ON YOUR MOM
LISTEN TO THE POLICE WHILE CALLING YOUR MOM
LISTEN TO YOUR MOM
LISTEN TO ME NOT YOUR MOM
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
JAMES TATE IS BLACK
by joe mchugh
This is not about James Tate being black
though he is.
This is not even about James Tate
though something's got to be
and this might be it.
This is about realty – no
I mean reality,
and not the reality of house buying
though that is a reality in which many people participate.
James Tate, for example, has probably purchased a house.
Okay we can begin now.
James Tate is, in actuality
black. His black is very black.
It is blacker than a black
Crayola crayon wrapper,
which I guess is actually gray,
but a really dark, almost black kind of gray.
When James Tate wears a disco coat
people say he is a cloudless night
and they begin sleeping under him.
Or, if they are third-shifters, they start toiling inside him.
That horrific crime that James Tate did
which nobody found out about –
he did it because he is black.
Everybody knows that
if black was a verb, it would be similar to the word “crime,”
if it was also a verb.
If James Tate was a verb,
its only two synonyms would be “to evolve,” and
“James Tate black crime verb.”
By now, it should be obvious that this doesn’t even pertain
to James Tate or his blackness.
James Tate is just a name
given to a black boy when he was born
which he used as a memory device later in life
for people who wanted to read more of his word arrangements
and funny logic, when they were displayed in lines and stanzas.
All of this means that James Tate is black
and nothing people ever do or say should change
your perception of that fact.
Now go home.
JAMES TATE BLACK
by daniel bailey
James Tate put 5 babies in 3 different baby-mamas pre-balldrop
James Tate born in the trunk of a stoleass escalade
James Tate fro so big he give up on hats
James Tate T.I. mixtape
James Tate black and he know it
James Tate drug free, yeah right
James Tate gallon of skol vokka, jus sip, sip, sippin
James Tate seen the 60's
James Tate been there
James Tate persevere
James Tate National Book Award
James Tate The Lost Pilot mixtape
James Tate need love too
James Tate upside-down on the monkey bars, mid-life crisis
James Tate equal-opportunity employed at UMass-Amherst
James Tate racism ain't dead yet
James Tate smokin kools
James Tate 40 oz. love
James Tate feel out of place in Massachussets
James Tate smoke weed for glaucoma
James Tate dick too big for tight jeans
James Tate defjam guilty pleasure
James Tate possible Saul Williams collab
James Tate Barack Obama bumper sticker
James Tate up all night reflectin on the past
James Tate aight though
James Tate black
James Tate is Black
by Ryan Rader
James Tate is black
and i am white
I find it funny
to look back
at my dumb face
opening to gasp
at the news
that james tate is white
and I never knew.
I'd take it all back,
but it feels alright
to mix my blacks
up with my whites.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
2 new things
i have two new poems up at my name is mud, along with some other cool new writing by badasses like maurice burford, sasha fletcher, drew kalback, j.a. tyler, and others.
i really like the look of my name is mud and its general aesthetic. good job, adam maynard. thanks for the publication.
-----
the other new thing is this blog, where i'll be posting scans of things found in abandoned houses. if you want to submit scans of things found in abandoned houses, feel free to email them to me. i will post them.
i really like the look of my name is mud and its general aesthetic. good job, adam maynard. thanks for the publication.
-----
the other new thing is this blog, where i'll be posting scans of things found in abandoned houses. if you want to submit scans of things found in abandoned houses, feel free to email them to me. i will post them.
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