Numbers game

Or: The fatal four


Four: two legs, two arms, four legs, four arms.
The tables mount. The tables sigh and separate.
Four: brothers. Son number one peddles firearms.
Son number two fixes tires. Son number three
writes books. Son number four is buried.
Four: times son number four fared off the deep
end and left home. He isn’t in a cemetery.
Four: the suicide scale. Four: times he
sported his lottery, and one time won it.
Four: the entries in his DNA, one might say,
selfsame and talkative as the rest of the species.

By the way. As I say on my cover page, this site is less a blog and more a repository for writing since I am a wholly forgetful person. I don’t want to lose several years’ worth of work because I forgot the password to some online file-hosting service. However, I do appreciate you fifty-plus people who peruse this site, juvenile as its name is, and I thank you for your patronage.

Now give me your money! All of it!

—> http://siblingrivalrypress.com/assaracus/

That is the site of my publisher, Sibling Rivalry Press. I am going to appear in Assaracus Issue 8, which is due for publication in January 2013. The anthology has only been around for a couple of years, but as you can see from SRP’s website, it has gained some notoriety in academic and coffeehouse circles. And nevermind the queership of it.

That part is incidental, and my selections in Issue 8 barely touch on the subject at all. Frankly, it isn’t very  interesting by itself as a subject.

Why pay for what you’ve already been shown on this site? Because you’d be supporting a twenty-year old writer rotting to death in the Deep South, that’s why.

Here is an excerpt from a review of Assaracus Issue 1, in which I appeared under a pseudonym.

“Jay Burodny’s poems also had an edgy, wild-left-turn aspect, & an unusual voice. Striking. An original talent, be sure.”

Do you agree?

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~ by Jeremy on July 13, 2012.

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