no more virginal audio mama

Anomalous Press was kind enough to print some of mama's poems & Anomalous Press does the audio poem thing so you can listen to mama read some of her poems after drinking the moonshines after sitting on the porch with her shotgun; her calloused feet soaking in a moonshine bath. you can't hear mama call for her eldest Dewey Dell to bring mama more moonshines & you can't hear the dogs snarling at the postman.

here is i hope you get ugly and die

here is i am hopscotch with hop

here is it is after all only a folding

& one of these titles is true true true...

yours all warm & tingly,
mama

mama's book trailer sucks

mama needs yr help!

this is mama's book trailer:



it is too quirky. it is not dark enough. it doesn't capture the essence of Homegirl! the only good things are cousin allen's cameo (yes!) & his cinematography...


here is a good book trailer (for an awesome book you all should read soonsoon):




here is another good book trailer:




mama doesn't know if she's allowed to do this... mama doesn't know if this is a cop-out, but mama was thinking that maybe she could crowdsource her book trailer (& look at mama using the fancy techno-geek lingo, yo, all from her porch under the alabama sun; mama wipes that sun glare off her laptop with moonshines, yo)...

READERS OF HOMEGIRL!

if you feel like it, send mama your interpretations
send scenes, send a whole fucking trailer if you want...
mama'll watch them all/mama might them mash up
you will have mama's undying luvs
you will win 1 milli-second of fame as mama'll list your name in the credits

send your Homegirl! video clips to collinsry4@yahoo.com
be sure to include your postal address (real one cos a certain combat-boot wearing poet's sent mama a fake address 2 xs now) so mama can send you good stuffs

if mama uses your clip, mama'll send you a signed copy of her book & a personalized gift (maybe one of mama's boot flasks, maybe the stencil for her tattoo, maybe her heart in a box, who knows what mama'll do...)

big loves,
mama

mama's dating tips #1

mama's thinking about going on the okcupids... would it be weird if mama's handle was bigbertha? & if you don't know that's a reference from Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea get off your computer & go read some real books, son!

(mama is all about the self-deprecations but not the self-defecations, yo.)

mama has been thinking about this dating thing recently. i've been re-examinings the interactions between the peeps who wants to get it on, especially vis a vis mama & the peeps she's done. i've been wondering why it's so hard to find someone you want to fuck three xs a day for a longlong time?

if you have the same question, perhaps mama's tips can help you... perhaps you should read mama's tips & then do the exact opposite of all of them

EXCEPT FOR THIS ONE:

1. if you are thinking about doing the kissykiss liplocked tonguey wormcave biteybite thing with someone be sure to ask him or her or them if they have ever touched, fondled, petted, kissed, tongued, or eaten an ARMADILLO. this is not a euphemism to find out if they are a virgin (who the fuck cares about that besides whiteboys who don't like vaginas cos they are actually repressing homoerotic desires). the armadillo is never an euphemism, yo. 20% of armadillos in the US carry leprosy. you, as a human being who thinks you are so fucking great cos you can walk upright & know the ironic difference between Pabst & Hamm's, can contract motherfucking leprosy from touching or eating an armadillo. you can then spread your leprosy through your saliva.

that's right kiddies, through the salivas. that wet shit that gets exchanged through the face to face thing unless you are sweet unicornrepressedhipster butterfly kissing.

#1 question to ask now after lastcall, for reals...


yours in luv,
mama


hold yer hands in hallelujah/ mama's gonna give it to ya...

mama's rules for fucking writers

cos even mama's got some rules...

& if you want to do the dirty with a writer here are some things you should know:

1. if you are a writer, never sleep with another writer who hasn't read your work

2. if you are a writer, do not sleep with someone whose work you don't admire. if you have to work hard to admire something about their writings, you should probably not do the sexings

3. if you are a woman writer, you may imagine your thing to be like Donald Hall/Jane Kenyon; it will probably be more like Hemingway + Gellhorn & guess which one of you's Papa (see #1)

4. do not bother waxing, the writer won't notice

5. if you don't bother waxing, the writer will notice

6. the writer may fixate on some peculiar part of your anatomy & wax poetic about it. a knob of your spine, the buckle of your knee, the saddle of your bag... the writer has practiced this soliloquy many times. don't buy it.

7. if both of you are writers, there will be miscommunication upon miscommunication cos words are slippery slippery things & both of you know how to twist words like soft baby eels until they go squish

8. the miscommunications will be fun at first for peeps who play with language. if you are a realist, not so much...

9. the writer will write about it in one way or another at some point in his/her life. this is what writers do. we are a dirty dirty bunch who steal & lie & pretend to feel. all the while we're just storing experience in our fucked-up heads to replay & revise at some remove.

10. we are also always critiquing & analyzing. it's how we roll... for example, right now, mama's critiquing her own list: #4 and 5's a-ight but the rest delves in stereotypes & generalizations & mama might be called to the rug for that (and what does it mean to be called to the rug & is there a kink that calls peeps to the rug & could mama call peeps to the rug & maybe mama should start a dominatrix-to-go van here in the south. it could be undercover but not quite; called something like 3 French Maids but there will be no hotties in French maid outfits getting off that van only mama wrapped in leather - your choice of black or blacker - & cracking a whip...)

11. there will be tangents upon tangents upon whorls upon whirls upon licks upon thrusts upon kisses upon tangents upon humps...

mama'll bring you the moonshines

since you haven't come to mama, mama'll come to you

& mama knows that's a cliche & mama knows it bothers some established writers (whatever that means) when one acknowledges you are using a cliche (& also SWITCHING POV!), but sometimes a cliche is all you gots & sometimes you are using the cliche to comment upon it & sometimes the cliche clings to your thigh like a used condom your lover left in your bed after he left without kissing you good-bye...

you woulda turned your head away, anyway

mama won't turn her head away & mama'll bring you the moonshines just like in the pic

but mama'll punch your face if you ever make her feel inhibited

if you make mama ever say sorry in bed you are done for

done for in more than a nasty sweaty whips & chains & hairshirts way

this is an excerpt from Homegirl!


this excerpt explains nothing about mama & her moonshines:

& Homegirl’s called Homegirl cos she’s always and forever looking for that home and always and forever resisting that urge to find home. She thinks love can be a home. She runs from the love that can be a home straight to the guys who want to knock that home on its ass, that want to raze every wall and kick in every door and break every tooth in that home. Guys like Richboy.

She’s a modern day fucking Dorothy from Oz and instead of ruby slippers, bitch has a gun. & instead of the lion, the woodsman, and the scarecrow, she’s gots her brains, her looks, and her cunt.