Mmmm. Finished the interview with the fabulous Drama Queens, the all-female drag queen troupe of three lovely and extremely interesting ladies. They really enjoy fucking with people's ideas about gender; since they are often mistaken for male drag queens. I think the most powerful thing I got out of the meeting was learning that being a drag queen of either gender means busting loose, going to the extreme, becoming the fashion whore/drama queen/slut that you always wanted to be but were frightened away by good taste or public opinion. I hope everyone will read the article once it comes out!

I think I broke my toe Saturday. It was really hurting, but now it's just numb and an awful lot of odd colors. I can't afford to get gangrene now. No health insurance as of Friday.

Daddy

He is everywhere,
effusive,
the airbag in the Volvo
exploding during the crash,
suffocating me,
snapping my neck
in the guise of rescue.

And I'm working on a poem that might be okay.

8 days till parents visit. I'm not freaking out yet. Yes I am. No I'm not. Yes.. No.. (Bad comedy hijinks ensue.)
I had a good date yesterday. Which I'm bursting to describe in all its tawdry (not at all: sorry, put it back in your pants) glory. But I won't, this being a public forum and... Okay, I'm scared he might read it and a girl has to preserve some mystery, doesn't she? At least that's what people tell me. It's hard enough having my poetry about sex in the elelevator out there for everyone to read and make solo love to.

Tonight I interview a gaggle of female drag queens for Wide Angle. My first interview ever. I'm terrified. a little.

So.
Friday was my last day at my old job. Various responses from co-workers saying goodbye. Some picked fights, some said stay in touch, others threw hissy-fits and ran out of the room. The director asked me, before I left, if I would come back for one day and work for free. Ahem. Right.
I hate leaving. Anything at all ever. That's why I keep staying in relationships that suck (tm).
I got so depressed leaving that place that I could barely drag myself out of bed in the morning. I just wanted to stay home curled in the fetal position. And of course they took it personally when I came in late. Which made me feel worse. Self defeating, anyone?

In the category of good news: I got a notice threatening eviction! Maybe Andy and I can be homeless together. Our creased and filthy cardboard sign will say

WILL RighT fer FooD

My reading on the 15th of May is at The Charleston in Williamsburg. It's a funky old bar, last time I went it was full to the brim with hipsters. I hope to have some new stuff to read then. Last night I finally submitted my review of a friend's book to Pemmican. She's such a better writer than me. Must kill her.
Today is my second to last day at my current job. Arghh. I hate goodbyes.

which "monty python and the holy grail" character are you?

this quiz was made by colleen

oh, I love my new blogger look. Plus it allows comments. Hint. Anyone have any ideas how I can add graphics?

Oh look. The poem below went away. It was making my eyes bleed! I didn't like it! Not ready for prime time. However, I did get an old piece, Science gone Mad, accepted by Wicked Alice. Opium said they liked the piece I submitted, but that it needed a bit more meat. Whatever. I'll try to add some substance. But I have none! I have two interviews to do for Wide Angle. One's of the man-poet I worship, Todd Colby, and the other's of the head of an all female drag queen troupe. I like genderplay, so that should be interesting. Hmm. I got a new tv. And I discovered. TV sucks.

I have lift-off! I mean an art exhibit! Aki is hanging four of my paintings in his cafe. I'm so excited. I just can't believe it. Just last summer, I was giving my paintings away for free at the art festival. And still people wouldn't take them. Now people pay money, hah!

and I wrote a new poem. I attempted to do it in third person, and not use the word cunt. This is the phirst drapht.


First draft!

I've been thinking about my voice lately. No, not the meek, girly, unmistakeably "blonde" one, but my poetic voice. People keep saying my poetry reminds them of Buwkoski and I finally came across one of his poems today. Before, I only knew him by reputation, hard drinking and swearing, tuff-living and people hating. I also got a general impression of decay, dirt and unhappiness. But today I saw how he spoke about misery in such a deadpan, plain way. Put Wordsworth to shame. Is it "beauty is truth" or "truth is beauty"? I forget. But his truth is ugly. I believe his use of non-poetic language, images and metaphors influenced a generation of poets, and they in turn influenced me. Kathy Acker, Tricia Warden, Daphne Gottlieb and Karen Finley -- yeah, she's a writer, what, you didn't know?-- all seem to be speaking with their cunts. And I go for that blood thirsty language. Sharon Olds, the goddess mother of the new wave of female poets, speaks with every part of her body. Today, my tv was broken so I was forced to think. I thought about who is this Christine who is writing? Where did she come from? So I started to list influences. Besides those above, there's Sapphire, Lawrence Raab, James Tate, Wallace Stevens, and comic book women, Love and Rockets, Dame Darcy, Julie Doucet, and rockers, Courtney Love, Rasputina, NIN. And then there's the personal influences, Douglas Wolk, a writer for the Voice, who showed me in two dates (which I'm sure he doesn't remember, they were years ago) that writing for a living is not so impossible, and that you don't have to be a genius. Not that he's not smart. Kiki Smith, raises the body and its fluids/processess to a new form of childlike fairytale, mytho-poetic and pre-pubescent at the same time. I need to sleep. I was going to include links to everyone and thing. Maybe tomorrow. They made me "Literary" not just "poetry" editor for Wide Angle. So I get to pick both the fiction and the poetry. I'm hoping to get some really good stuff. Later.

Thank you, Felicia, for linking to me! (She's the editor of Small Spiral Notebook, the Capo de Capo.)

I have new paintings up. The photos are a little blurry (damn you, polariod!)

New book! Or a near facismle thereof. So many people were asking me if I had a book to buy at the Thesauraushead reading that I stapled and copied and photoshopped (yes, I'm using photoshop as a verb, so sue me -- ha! watch it will really happen) and put together copies over the weekend. Unfortunately, I didn't stop to eat or move from my chair, so I got really sick. But I sold my first copy, and hope to sell the rest tomorrow at the reading. Although they tend not to buy at these Women's Center Readings -- I've tried it before. If you want a copy, email me at bronzelizard@cs.com. They're five dollars and you flatter me a lot, cheaper. For a look at the cover, go here.

As always, if you want the "real deal",
the entire potato, the smashing tomato, go to www.geocities.com/thefatladysinging.

My next reading is April 11, 7PM, Church of the Holy Trinity, 316 E. 88th Street, between 1st and 2nd Aves. You can come and see if god strikes me dead.

What Stirring had to say about my poem:

Congratulations. The editors have decided on your piece, "Things that are Left at K-mart, According my Dream on Wednesday," one of the finest pieces of poems we've come across in a while, for our upcoming edition of Stirring. They had the following to say about your work --

"This poem just SHOULD NOT work. But it does."

"I'm not usually one for list poems, but this one captured my attention and held it throughout the read. Each word really makes you stop and think and consider its significance both singly and in relation to the whole. I particularly liked the repetition of 'the torso of a woman' which gets richer with each repeat. And, of course, the title really makes the piece. Very imaginative and unusual. "

"Enigmatic, took up speed and strength toward the end."

Two thumbs up, two thumbs down. Boss when he's happy -- boss when he's sad.

Sarah Lawrence Reading -- eech. I nearly got frostbite from my reception. The people I invited were very nice, and I hope not just because of the free champagne, but no one else spoke to me, and I felt very, well, univited.

Thesaurushead Reading -- yum. Everyone was incredibly nice and friendly, and the actual stuff read was better. The ratio of pretention to talent was infinitely lower.

Poem accepted at Stirring! Two poems accepted at can we have our ball back, which also publishes the most illustrious and nonderfulus Todd Colby.