Tuesday, December 22, 2009


This poem literally came to me in a rush of inspiration, and the irony of it is that as old-fashioned as the first few lines read, a rough version of them found their origin on twitter. Ah well, so much for the 21st century. She comes and goes as She pleases. Enjoy:

O Stranger, do you hear?
My mistress calls

and cries for black blood spilled on fields of snow

Is it yours, or mine? I care not, cares not She
only that the furrows fill, the rivers flow

and nothing left of seed save wisps of husk

Hey fucker, listen up!
Yeah, She's my shotgun
double-aught flash, both barrels to the face
your brains on the table
my blood on the page
and nothing on the floor but empty shells

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Best of the Decade: The Real Threat to the Novel

Dear Novelist

You're familiar with Warren Ellis, aren't you? The guy who wrote the novel Crooked Little Vein?
Well, he was slumming it for that gig. While we're all fumbling in the clay, cracking pots in the kiln and alternately creating functional tableware and grotesque, unlovely, and unwieldy monstrosities, Ellis and his contemporaries have taken what everyone presumptuously considered straw and are spinning it into a new golden age of fiction.

They're called comic books, fellas, the marriage of words and sequential art, and they're kicking our asses in the double aughts.

Age of Bronze, Black Hole, Blankets, the reissue of Transmetropolitan, Planetary, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Marvel 1602, Criminal, The Walking Dead, Darwyn Cooke's adaptation of The Hunter, 365 Samurai and a few bowls of rice, and these are just a tiny sample of amazing American comics. There's a whole dynamic world out there.

Of course you can dismiss them if you like, if it makes you feel better. And I don't deny there are a lot of really great prose novels out there. But this is the fact as I see it: the comic form in its malleability is a superior storytelling medium, superior not just to the novel but also to television and movies. And while I also don't doubt that these three media will continue to exist and produce quality art within their limits, the comic form has only just begun to push the boundaries of what it's capable of, art and story catalyzing one another into a beautiful blue flame.

Maybe an MFA in graphic design would have been a better choice.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

HYMN NO. 33 1/3

When the King comes down to earth again
be a hunk of burnin’ love
shinin’ like a diamond on His big white throne
save the lamb and save the dove
When the King comes down to earth again
gonna be a righteous rule
and we’ll fear no evil nor the shadow of death
cause He’ll teach us all kung fu
And when He comes to earth again
He’ll set the poor man free
and there won’t be no more Devil-box
cause He’ll shoot out your TV
O the King will reign on earth again
you’ll know Him by His face
and we’ll all drive pimped out Cadillacs
to a land of lasting Grace