Inbox Mining

I've been doing some archiving around here as of late, and It will probably continue. I tend to get my mind excited when I can place an event that I remember with an actual date. I'll try and not go too far over board, today for instance I had to curb the desire to pile up a great deal of forgotten items. The most amusing being the first bad review Shitting Glitter ever received. The review isn't so much a bad review of our band as it is a bad review of being gay, and really, the whole thing was just bad.
Anyway, I came across this, it's from an email from Amy to me, and it contains some poems which she had jotted down in a bar, I read them and liked them, and decided I had the authority to post them for my eternal pleasure.
And to re-state the purpose of this entire mess of words and now pictures, this blogs first priority is for my eternal pleasure.
It should also be noted that I have now blogged more this month than any other month previous. Most of this has to do w/ my communication with one Carrie Wipplinger, whose relationship to me and significance in my universe I still have not properly described. I will make this concession soon in order to help the reading of this large mess along a bit.
I have a feeling there will be more from me today.

From:
Amy
Date:
Fri, 12 Mar 2004 14:50:02 EST
Subject:
some pomes from here
To:
buckglitter@yahoo.com

TO BE paul FRANK

well placed labels rest on their laurels
hoping it's enough
it cost enough.
it's someone else's stupid overused reproduced face
print overplaced.
lucky for you low stakes abound
recognition might buy you a stupid cute fuck.


APPLICATION

it might be the hour of necessary examination
i'm buried in my own self stare
through liquid stain
permanent and thorough, the makeshift demands
i haphazardly place on my credit card
add up
stacking
blaming
point blank
reaming
balance beaming
not necessarily smiling
just pleased.
but who wouldn't be
under this much drink.


robbie mcrobberson

i manage to see him home
sidewalk state
he mills about conscious what not
he wander in and out of his treadmark jacket
too clean for a black trench
apply two coats
his game... less than midwest
more midway.
guy with a dental plan


STORY

little words
gumdrops
sinking sweet
stuck to the side of my teeth
making history
writing made up sentiment
around my well meaning tongue
hop skip and a dump
into some chick's underwear
made up bed
wrapped in 300 count reasons


Blank beautiful joe
stroll cute.
under obsessive sun, singular misuse of a gun
he bounced bullets around like toy day
a whole fucked 24 hours
devoted to boyish charm.
free for all
in a meadow in a field
smiles and targets
the kind that move that run
just like the boy
running hard and far
chased by his unequalled
precious
ravenous
innocence.

Photo by the Incomparable Marc Loren