The Young Hot Stars Of The Small Magellanic Cloud

Turning 30 wouldn't have been so bad if a mass murder didn't happen on my birthday.
Meh. I was in DC last weekend, partly for a reading, partly to see the Braves, partly to
kick it with my favorite poet friend, Carrie Murphy and her awesome boyfriend Randall,
and partly to party. Along the way there were spaceships and ice cream cones and One D-
irection in 3D and Mark Cugini's precious soul (I hope you still smell like a 17 yo with a
fake ID from those shots) and The Generals dead body. It was actually pretty fucking
awesome.

When I go to places to read, I like to write things specifically for the place. Like, the poems
I read are FOR the place. For the Three Tents reading series, which is one of my favorite
places to read so far, I wrote a long poem called DRONE CITY, USA and I made stickers
from Label 228s. The stickers were a huge hit and I'm actually pretty stoked about them
(if you want a sticker, hit me up in the comments or on some other social media). I met
Amber Sparks and Amber's husband Chris. Chris actually works for the postal service as
some waste prevention officer or something (I was kinda drunk + super amped) and he
was pretty stoked to see a perfect example of his job in action (seriously Chris, don't call
the cops on me).

I think this could totally hang in this book

Meeting people that I've only known from the internet is always cool. I'm pretty active on
twitter, and follow some cool people and some follow me back or that talk to me, but my
twitter is kind of anon so not many people know that I'm a real boy. I guess now they know
I'm a
real boy.