Thursday, January 15, 2009

It's alright, ma, I didn't run away and join the circus

When you self-publish a skinny little book of poetry, have one book release party at a bar with a drunk on guitar, and then put the book away in your trunk to give away to girls (and poets, and girl poets) at bars.

When you do that.

When that's your publishing strategy.

Marketing ha ha ha ha ha ha ha strategy.

And then a guy you used to drink canned beer with in high school.

Finds you on the enter net.

Says, "I run the library now. If it gets in, it's through me. And I want you."

"Your book." Signed by me.

Heck, it's almost a publishing event.

Bear with me one more day.

This is the one I like the most.

Compare the title to the first letter of each line. Taking into account the stanza breaks.

It's a game! I play games.




don't know why
I like the looks of
danger on the midway
nasty sword swallowers
tattooed in halter tops

runaways, eyes astray
under transient carnival lights
not quite watching their own lives

as they exchange kids' quarters for
wet promises to win the race
and a big stuffed nothing as
yawning plastic clowns

accept tiny blasts of squirt guns
never in my life
did I walk away from a hot dog

joint fully possessed
of whatever honorable or honest
intention was keeping me intact
never was my managed future safe from

threat of gummy pink cotton candy
hair swept up in sweaty bandanna
everything always on the line

circus, carnival, halfway house happy hour
I love you more than I can say
reality simply can't be you
cold and dark and empty and your carny girls all
under their motionless rides
sleeping, alone


It's a video, too~! A video*!

Directed edited conceived uploaded burped rode wet and put away dry by Kevin Belford. My hero.

Guitar by Tom Hall. who is not a drunk. who is not a drunk.

My voice. who is not a drunk,

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