Night of the Outsider Poets

Night two of the World Series. Cubs got out to an early 1-0 lead tonight and that’s where it stands in the top of the third.

It’s cold, rainy, and miserable here in Northern Illinois, but it’s supposed to be unseasonably warm when the Series returns to Wrigley Field Friday.

I just took Niacin for the first time an hour ago, and I’m waiting for the reputed Niacin flush even though I spent extra money to get the brand that says they have eliminated that. Hopefully I’ll only be taking it 30-60 days.

I also bough some Perrier water from the Walgreens. I’m sure all of these things combine to make my stomach like the swamps of New Jersey.

Another thing that happened recently was outlaw poet Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize for Literature, which seemed to incense quite a few poetry snobs who don’t appreciate his work. I’m not saying the Nobel Prize was warranted, just like I’m not sure the Peace Prize was appropriate for Obama as he was presiding over two wars and a secret drone war that was bombing picnics and birthday parties around the world.

Nonetheless, as editor of two poetry publications, as publisher of Zombie Logic Press, I tend not to be a snob.

Also, Jack Chick passed away this week. I didn’t know who he was until I saw RPG nerds informing me that he had started the Satanic Panic. Really? I was there, and I didn’t see Jack Chick around. I just wanted to say that to get to 250 words.

 

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