find myself combing thru my movie books, dvd guides, and drive-in theater websites. for the hell of it. shit is like fetish-porn to me, esp. photos of drive-in theaters. what, a pathology? naw, only that summer kicks my movie habit/passion into overdrive.

which kinda explains the ed wood sonnets i'm currently working on. wood was also a noir novelist, and that has worked its way into the texts, too. i have four poems so far, and all need a good long stint of revisions. using as my source text the oral history nightmare of ecstasy: the life and art of edward d. wood, jr by rudolph grey. my only rule for writing is to do it very fast, and worry about revisions later. but like all rules, it was made to be broken. for i found myself making changes to #3 as i was writing #4 tonight.

and i'm beginning to see my poems based on super8 porn loops as a little chap. probably publish it myself, with a little help from friends. maybe even publish it as a pdf file, too. first i must gather all the texts and whip them badboys into shape, see how they fit together.

i'll end this ramble by saying last night was reading bill knott's excellent blog. nothing more, just check it out. curious to see if he does publish all his poems there. and check out this visual poem by daniel f. bradley. and these texts by welsh poet lloyd robson.


sh, listen! do you smell something?
name that movie