I am sitting in a BBQ place in Atlanta and I am reading Daniel Bailey's The Drunk Sonnets, which looks like this
and two bastools away from me this hipster asshole with tight jeans and the classic, like, I-could-possibly-be-an-extra-in-an-Indiana-Jones-movie shirt is consulting with a tweaker about getting his cool new tattoo done and the tweaker tattoo artist guy won't shut the fuck up about everything from Humphrey Bogart being the epitome of the noir writer (????) to area, circumference, and space (because, even generally speaking, these are ALL different things) when it comes to "people really wanting to see" your stupid fucking tattoo. I'm just saying, tattoos are fucking stupid.
Bailey's got some gems in this fine little book. i say little because physically that's what it is, but I am scared of what Daniel Bailey writes because he's good at it, like this:
THE AIRPORT IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
THE GROCERY STORE IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
PETSMART IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
THE THAI PLACE IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
MY OWN BED IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
INSIDE MY CAR IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
ALL THESE STREETS, THIS CITY, THIS STATE
THIS COUNTRY IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
IN FRONT OF THIS TV IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
IN THIS BODY IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
IN THIS AIR IS A TERRIBLE PLACE TO EXIST
I'M THINKING ABOUT EVOLUTION AND THE WAY WE CHANGE
AND HOW LONG IT WILL BE BEFORE I HAVE A TAIL AGAIN
AND I CAN STUFF IT BETWEEN MY LEGS
It is a BIG BIG BOOK. You should buy and read it.
The tweaker guy and the hipster guy just left and before he left the tweaker tattoo artist said (and I'm not joking, it really happened exactly like this), "I have this theory about people, and about the way that they look at you." and then he just walked out the door. I think the hipster guy didn't quite know what the fuck to do with himself, but I'll bet you if and when I see him next he'll have some really fucking cool tattoo of something like the ohm symbol on his goddamn forearm.