struggles and rebellion

They say good writing comes from the unconscious. Who knows where the hell this is coming from? This was told to me while I was reading a lot of novelizations and books that relied heavily on dialogue to move the plot along.

I was writing myself in those days and still do; however, not as much due to my lack of discipline. I write mostly in longhand, occasionally in shorthand, and in a pinch, long shorthand, and always by candlelight.

My characters were antiheroes, my plot was character-driven, my prose was external, like Chekhov’s, and my themes were theistic. I don’t know why.

The first story I published was “The Bored Tempestuous Heiress,” and the opening sentence was: “It was a liverwurst sandwich, and there was lipstick on the bread.”

It was published by an underground zine called Vacant Truth, headquartered in the Marshall Islands.  Its editor, an American Communist expatriate named Lefty Budupsker, wrote me personally:  “Man, I dig this.  It’s got Marx written all over it.  Freud, too. What are you, an idiot savant?”

Critics said my influences included Clifford Odets and Mad magazine, but in interviews, I was cheeky like Dylan and told them I was actually influenced by God.  They’d become visibly pale and ask me, “What gets you out of bed in the morning?”  Wow.  Basquiat had the best response to that question.  He walked off camera and disappeared into his bedroom.

I actually enjoy interviews.

I usually communicate through sounds and nudges.

When they ask me about my childhood, I tell them it was a lot like Disneyland at four o’clock in the morning, and when they ask me to elaborate, I just tell them to go back and read their Kafka, then they’ll understand.

Reviews

[berenongur]

I love these kinds of poems, I felt as if we were chatting with a wise man while drinking tea on small stools.

[Philip Gaber]

Thanks berenongu for reading and reviewing...