Tour day 3: Words on day 2 Traveled fast. Early arrival to Asheville was welcomed by punches thrown to the scream of “I’ll fight you this way.”

Tour day 2. Waking up in stranger’s bed. I will never meet this person. A man tells me there is a goat in this neighborhood. A biker keeps his leather jackets on his porch. His portable dog sizes me up. Gravel pit mother fuckers.

I have a piece called Behold up at Monkeybicycle

Be ever so so sweet and give it a read. After that continue dastardly thinking, please.

 

ATL Zine Fest. I be there. You could be there. We all be there together.

safetythirdenterprises:

48 Pornos by Tyler Gobble. A chapbook. Out on June 25th

Morning words from David Gianatasio.

Morning words from Matthew Simmons. [read Happy Rock dammit]

The Feast Lodge is full. Every seat taken by a body consuming masses of alcohol, breading, and slaughtered beasts. Two men sit in the back. They are old friends. Friends forever. At their table is two plates of spattered imitation leaves of green. Destiny takes a strong fingered grip on these two men. To a select number of people they will be called heroes and patriots at the end of the night, but to a specific corporation, that is a subsidiary of another corporation that was birthed through a highly speculative hedge fund, they will be called “enemies of the construction of a new economy”.

One man, Greg, will lose a tooth on night’s end. His mother, a hostess at a crab shack four blocks away, will place a fake tooth where the real one once nested. 

“Fuck it mom,” Greg will yell as the porcelain grapplers cut and groove into the jelly skin of his jaw. “This is what you get,” Greg’s mom will say as his head begins to finally be overcome by the homemade numbing agents.

“This is not your fault” will be the last words Greg will hear for three days.

The other man, Daniel, will have his parole officer copy a Sudoku puzzle and place it into his file that night.

After two weeks have passed Greg and Daniel will meet up again. Neither will ask how things have been. Time has been time and there is no use in giving it further definition. 

Rubbing ink into the fibers.

Left untouched my body will birth insects.

When I am no more I will give life.

I am 70% water and 100% unprocessed bug food.