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Poetry Detox

October 31, 2008

we spent a total of three hours standing in an early voter line, reading allure magazine articles about liquid detox diets and how carbs and white foods bloat your lower belly.  shit man!

no surprise, then, when we came home we just crashed instead of thumbing through our bootleg copy of The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinnian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion. so longstoryshort we made a pizza and watched new episodes of vh1’s Celebrity Rehab.  and while you might think that junkies don’t have manuscripts, you would be wrong!  up first?

CR’s resident counselor bob forrest.  as it turns out bob was a serious fucking L.A. rocker who’s got a touch of the frank o’hara poetry mischeif!  notice the middle poem, penned on letterhead for Mary Tyler Moore Enterprises.  frank would die, right?  again.

but bob ain’t got shit on CR’s resident crazypants: gary.  busey.  who receives angelic messages of intervention, fyi.

the man certainly has enough material to write a book–in the first episode he confesses to snorting cocaine off his dog after she rolled around in it.  but busey eschews narrative & has taken the lyrical highroad, turning his madness into genius for the sake of others.  in the works is a book of motivational buseyisms, which are also known as acrostics.  what does he think ANGER really is?






wow, john cage much?  we wish we could remember what F-R-E-E-D-O-M was all about but we can’t. thankfully someone had the forethought to update Busey’s entry with some more examples.

shut up, you know you’re going to buy a copy of Satan’s Darkroom when it comes out.

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