daniel drives a van and owns a saber

Computer labs and a new Spring. I've got a bag of peanut butter cookies and some sunglasses. There's a kid in a tyedye astronomy shirt at the computer across from me, smiling up at the florescent. Everybody's made of history and aesthetics. One phrase I'm really obsessed with right now is the chorus from that Killers song: ARE WE HUMAN OR ARE WE DANCER.

Though I'm reasonable enough to remain skeptical about the "staying power" of this phrase, right now it's totally all the rawk. Every three months or so, I'm like "Wait, what are The Killers up to?" If I had to classify them, I would call them the kids who learn what football is in third grade, then run home and get a liferaft and a glittery cape and a bucket of ham and bring these things to the football field and start screaming MARS IS FOR EMOTIONAL! MARS IS FOR EMOTIONAL! They are those kids.

This kid in an orange sweatshirt is flirting with one of the lab attendants. He's leaning his face in. She's swiveling her monitor back and forth in an appreciative way.

Somebody's got a mop and somebody's got capri pants. Here in the overcoat of my heart you're a burrowed parakeet. Not only that, but I've got a new story up at P.H. Madore's newly relaunched dispatch litareview. Nav your eyes over and click Current. The story's called "Ball of Dooshie Levitation." Whereas I've been accused of self-protective nonchalance, that's not something P.H. Madore has ever been accused of, I think. His magazine is red and pretty. Check it out.


look! a face!

i started writing and recording videos of RAD POETRY poems

they are up on the noo blog: FOR YOU TO FINISH WHILE YOU'RE SWIMMING (for Nikolai Stephanovich) and MOTIVATIONAL NAIVETE (for Barry Graham)

this is fun

i will be doing some more and will try to get other people to do some

if you want to do some just let me know

i feel like i could do this for funraiser and not for a fundraiser; it would be funny if i could do this for a living; it would be really funny if there was like some massive market for personalized youtube poems and people were like "bshh, who does this young mike think he is, trying to hone in on the $$$, what a dingleberry"


i did laundry and found a $100 season in my pocket; it said "high, my name is spring"

It's warm finally. Here's a hope nobody's lying. What I'd like is for all of us to be liars but none of us to lie. Toward that goal: I have five poems appearing this week at No Tell Motel. Three are up already: "Tell Me and I Will Know," "If I Crash My Love Goes With Me," "Let's Invite Permission." That first one is one I feel very tender about. Two more are coming: "All of These Parties Outside the Microwave" and "A Sample of Your New Luck."

All five are from a 50ish page manuscript called WE ARE ALL GOOD IF THEY TRY HARD ENOUGH. My friends in Ashland tried to make me change the title to THE GOOD SHIP BEARD TRIMMER VERSUS U.S.S. BITCHFACE, a change still within the realm of possibility, like Kool-Aid, which is always right there at the store if you want it. Comment on this post if you want me to email you a copy of the MS to read, if you have time for 50 pages of poetry suspicious of feelings, reverent toward breakfast and inside jokes, attempting a value system like however drunk snipers aim at diplomats, and featuring a spirit of clutter that makes room for unicorn blankets, how-not-to manuals, amateur opera singers, sex in the woods, daguerreotypes of rowboats, spacemen, total reality goals, hemlock, intermission music, and the sheriff's election billboard. There are lots of pictures I've saved in my bookmarks that I have thought about for cover art of WAG IT THE, which is an acronym I can't use if I change the title you sweet Ore Goners.

Always I am thankful that my readers (you, that would be you) are more intelligent and attractive than most. Virginia: I'll be there in April. California: June. A state of bliss or at least sustained happiness: sorry, I lost my ticket. But I had a great time at the reading in Amherst. We closed the curtain and scared people. Good work Chris, Claire, Rachel, Bradley, Blake. Thanks everyone who came out and who told me "I didn't think it was possible for me to ever be offended, but I was offended." Also had a lovely time in Providence reading with Clarion Donation and William Blake. Unique city: Star Wars toys in the bathroom, old people Scrabble in the hipster burger bar, apricots in the brownies, Christmas lights in the construction zone. Ada Books: swell. Thank you Claire and Jeff for housing me and thanks to Brian Foley for introducing me via follicle commentary. When is the train up? Who's on and where can I hide?