BlazeVOX 11 is alive & reals...

check it out, yo

at the combination pizza hut & taco bell

mama's been thinking about you. this post is for you. there is no you. there is only you.


mama was gonna do an homage to wigleaf's un/happiness writers' playlist and list un/happy songs she listens to when she's stranded at Love's Truck Stop in the combo pizza hut/taco bell but then mama was distracted by the readings of the other entries... 


& wigleaf's playlist's gots Kyle Beachy, Ryan Bradley, mama, Gabe Durham, Erin Fitzgerald, Carissa Halston, Andrea Kneeland, Lacey Martinez, David Peak, Matt Salesses, Lucas Southworth, Amber Sparks, Terese Svoboda, and xTx. 


mama wants to give a shout out to Carissa Halston, both for her piece cos it's rocking, & for liking mama's, but sometimes mama feels shy about giving the shouts-out to writers she don't know cos then they might think things that are not so nicey-nice about mama or they might become twitter friends & rock (you know who you are, Tina, and let me know when new stuff drops...) or they might ignore her or mama might take it too far & ask them to be her boyfriend.


mama's all kinds of confused cos it's six in the morning & there ain't no gin and juice.


yours,
ryder


p.s. this song makes mama happy...

found found poem & a cool bloggy blog

deep spring cleaning today the kind of cleaning where mama gets rid of the mens who don't think she's even better than a red bull at a truck stop after trucking nonstop and mama found this found poem she found a long time ago...

next
could
these
my fight
about expressed
as
not
especially
brought maybe own
or wanted
a-ight it
poems may
have
later late.

if
this
to me
published
in
some sort
not kind
since.
sorry.
the job & sestina
verse this
or bradfield them?
vision may assistant
where see/read
editors emphasized
having my
         name. agenda.
meet me
         if
        you don't
after 5 pm
        to have elaine
will want
       he's up
the other stuff
       seems well
          i'm free,
            see.

here is a cool blog you should check out and here is mama's review again not cos mama's vainglorious or some shit but mama's still at the truckstop and the truckers keep passing her by on their way to grab a red bull or 4 loco from the cooler...

yours,
ryder

mama likey-like more than highballs!

The gracious and talented Sheldon Lee Compton has posted the first review of mama's chapbook, Orpheus on toast, over at his blog, Bent Country.

Checkcheckcheck it out cos Shel likes boots & mama likes boots...

mama's boots, for reals.

mucho mucho luvs,
ryder

a cliffhanger at Bent Country

& tenterhooks & softshoe dancing & check these links out, yo:
http://bentcountry.appalvoice.com/?p=219
http://bentcountry.appalvoice.com/?p=223


Sheldon Lee Compton, uber-talented writer, will be reviewing mama's chap tomorrow on his blog, Bent Country.

thanks, Sheldon, for reading mama's stuff!

mama's gonna go hide in a truck stop now.

yours in boots,
ryder

2 things i just read

that knocked mama out better than LL & better than her highballs:

a story about bears and death and brothers and love by J.A. Tyler

&

a story about skates and Neil Diamond and a hole in a sweater and love by Lauren Tamraz

read read & then go sundayfunday!

- ryder

yay!

mama's drinking her coffee au soy & she's checking the FBs & she sees THIS! & she's all like, it's real, for reals. Homegirl! has found a home...

yours,
ryder

i am supposed to like the things

here are the things i am reading:

the orange eats creeps
wittgenstein's mistress
light boxes (again cos mama's teaching it)


here are the things that are waiting for me to read:

2666
the box man
the correspondence artist
museum of the weird
new  > kill author
this shite


here are the things i got in the mail, today!:
mud luscious press things
glimpses
some kind of toys (& mama has some kind of date tonight; the chilluns are at the movies &/or playing in traffic)

here is one thing i want to read:
edward gorey's stories

here is what mama's been listening to over and over obsessively:
the hazards of love


here is where mama first found love:

yours in love at the corner dive bar,
ryder

whores like a choir

this is my favest song evah.

(don't leave yr house today, tomorrow, or evah...)

what postmodern imp mashed enigma clips with pixies?

where is mama's tequila when she needs it?

don't make mama go vfwing for shots & stolen glimpses of garter socks
                                                                                                               again...




yours,
ryder

i'll take happy

mama was gonna write an awesome post to you all but mama got distracted by a guy whose brown eyes somehow reminded her of whiskeys & whose voice made mama feel like she was wearing white eyeshadow and cat's eye eyeliner and mama still had her little pixie do...

mama with a pixie

that pix doesn't do the pixie justice cos mama's angry there cos someone grabbed the cd mama was cutting her cokes on & turned it over to check the song list out. mama thinks it may have been a weezer cd to boot.

irony or some shit.

mama still doesn't understand irony. still. really. someone please explain that shit to her.

all mama knows is that only one song on this tribute to elliot smith cd's aight & is that ironic?

is it as ironic as a weezer cd no one wants until there's some coke on it?

mama saw pixies once & they opened for weezer. really. & mama left when weezer came on & she wandered the fest by herself & boys kept trying to give her weezer tix. for reals.

there is no moral there. or irony. maybe.

someone take a pix of mama. someone take an arty pix. make it all black and white & nudey cos mama wants to be cool like you all;  she wants the graceful hint of nipple & the curve of hips without the close up of aerolea and pink & pores.

pores are gross & unironic. this much mama knows.

yours,
ryder

Happy whiskey vs sad whiskey

yeah, it's mama's choice - the only choice she's gots...

& the only choice she'll have left if the gop-shop have their way.

& mama wants to know why she attracts the mens with the angsties. & mama needs to decide if her whiskey's gonna be sad or happy soon.

there is a bottle labeled sad; there is a bottle labeled happy...

mama will drink one or the other or both & she still be hurtled down that rabbit hole.

someone once told mama she had no integrity. mama sd, yeah, that left me when i stopped fitting into 36Bs, duh... then she pretended she fit them & now she do again, so what does that even mean?

mama  measures her integrity in underwire. just ask the fictiondaily boys she so admires...

mama admires a lot of boys & mama likes the sexing & that's the #1 reason that one sd all that shit.

but i am not cool enough for any of you

& i am sick of seeing womens with big heads on wee bodies...

ryder