J ę ß ę

TOWARD A WHOLE-MINDED SEX DREAM an essay, plus a review of Adam Johnson’s Blaze Kimber

Substack post about sex dreams, mindfulness (whatever that is), and a tough but hopefully fair and honest book review of Adam Johnson’s poetry booklet Blaze Kimber

cholorohemoglobin.substack.com/p/toward-a-w...

I think I have just about every book from Pig Roast Publishing except Ric Royer’s. A true underground publisher. Curious ones should start with Psychiatric Tissues and Freak Buck, the comix anthology that will scorch retinas.

@pigroastpublishing.bsky.social

I’m posting a link to my piece of fiction in Hobart Pulp about milking cows and dealing with the beauty and the cruelties of farm life. Read it and tell me if it’s grit lit, or if it matters.

www.hobartpulp.com/web_features...

Happy Valentines Day from Raymond Carver.

It's like we always say: more poetry, more party.

This one is tinged with sadness and loss from a little one's perspective. This is "The Kid Must See With Unbonneted Eyes" by @platelet60.bsky.social

www.roifaineantpress.com/post/the-kid...

Mornin’!

Hope you got your lasso ready. Bad Men 57 (yeah it kinda rhymes I think) is live.

www.roifaineantpress.com/blog

As always, RF would like to thank their tremendously talented roster of contributors to this issue - @meproctor.bsky.social
@sgscarso.bsky.social
@juscarts.bsky.social
@platelet60.bsky.social
@katiecoleman.bsky.social
@kgrose.bsky.social - we couldn’t have done it without you, and we ❤️ you!

Hey, hey, what do you say?
Time to close out the day with some Poetry Partying.

This piece reflects on the rough spots that follow endings. This is "The Kid Must See With Unbonneted Eyes" by Jesse Hilson @platelet60.bsky.social SUNDAY

Here’s a clipping of Bullshit Lit’s catalog featuring my 2022 poetry collection Handcuffing the Venus de Milo. Poems about love, sex, Mark Antony, 007, Warren Zevon lyrics, murder, and mental hospitals. Check it out.

THE SUICIDAL IDEATION ... by Jesse Hilson - Farewell Transmission I was at a library and talking with a middle-aged woman and made a pass at her. I was telling her movies to watch and books to read.

farewelltransmission.net/2024/01/the-...

I have a piece of writing up at Farewell Transmission - Across the Wires today. Fiction? Non-fiction? I don’t exactly know.

My poem A Witchberg Lit was quoted on Belgian radio yesterday.

A poem today from me at Don’t Submit! it’s automatic writing called A WITCHBERG LIT

donotsubmit.net/a-witchberg-...

An Essay on Morgenrede's Abuser by Z.H. Gill - BRUISER Z.H. Gill on the new book by transgressive poet Morgenrede

ABUSER is a catalog of violent memories and tender reminisces, exurban poetry and 3AM ramblings, intrusive thoughts and interrupting voices of all sorts.

ZH Gill reviews the new book from transgressive poet Morgenrede, out today from Pig Roast Publishing: www.bruisermag.com/gill_morgenr...

FOR HE’S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW a bit of fiction and some news

Substack newsletter. A fragment of a novel I’m working on and some news.

cholorohemoglobin.substack.com/p/for-hes-a-...

Official EXCUSE ME Mag logo stickers in 2 sizes. The smaller ones are red on black, and the larger ones are gold on green.

Moving into the big time with our first official swag! Available free with your physical zine purchase or by request.

I have Tantrums by Kilpatrick. It’s a formidable tome. I need to read more XRAY stories.

Got these in the mail. Sunset Rubdown will be good for house cleaning music, maybe writing. I like Marjorie Perloff, she’s brilliant but much is over my head. Sometimes those are the best books to try out. Stretch muscles.

donotsubmit.net/bad-poem-by-...

I wrote a poem about being outside

Table of contents for a novella called “I See Prism Threads”

The table of contents for my novella in progress I SEE PRISM THREADS. Still working.

The cataleptic state in which I had been for some days was explained away to me in scientific terms, and the remarks of those who had seen me then irritated me when I realized that they attributed to mental aberration my actions and words which coincided with the various phases of what were for me a series of logical events. But I felt a greater affection than ever for those of my friends who, from kindness or patience, or because of a set of ideas similar to mine, made me give long accounts of the things I had seen in my mind. With tears in his eyes, one of them said to me: "Is it not true there is a God?" "Yes!" I answered enthusiastically. And we embraced each other, like two brothers of that mystic country I had half-seen. What happiness I found at first in that belief! For thus the eternal doubt about the immortality of the soul, which troubles the greatest minds, had been solved for me. [alt text continued in next post]

Gérard de Nerval, after describing a prolonged vision of great joy & love — translated here by Geoffrey Wagner

Transcribing notes from notebooks/sketch pads into my phone. I really wish I had an electric typewriter and a load of ink to get all these words down on paper. But then the Burroughs/Gysin cut up must be reversed in the physical. Too much work.

2024: less Twitter, more Notes app, less consumption of other people’s human centipede waste product, more meetups with the inner god-team within

My birthday party with family is tonight (actual birthday is in a few days) and I created a truly fiendish puzzle scavenger hunt-type game to destroy my cocky nephew, full of red herrings, feints, tough riddles, dead ends, cryptography, and spastic chaos.

A Mesomerican calendar and a painting of Peter Falk as Columbo but he is a face card.

Two multi-headed gods.

Got you a Christmas card.

It's my poem "Christmas Vacation is Die Hard Movie"

I guess I’ve entered a phase of life where I’m only really happy when I’m creating something. Which is a wonderful thing but also quite scary and daunting in its way. Because it has to be continually resumed and rejoined, refilled like a cistern. It is not permanently satisfying.

Had an excellent talk w/ a writer whose book I edited & wanted to publish but I’ve come to the conclusion I shouldn’t be publishing anyone’s book right now. It’s a little heartbreaking. I’m not good enough to be a publisher. Being an editor might be the max I can do. Plus I’m disliked.