sam pink -- 'yum yum i can't wait to die'

when i received sam pink's chapbook in the mail, i didn't know what it was because it didn't have a return address and it was in a wrinkled manila envelope with terrorist handwriting. for a few seconds i felt like maybe it was a bomb. this made me feel wanted and like someone was worrying about me somewhere. it was warm to feel this. when i opened the envelope there was a piece of paper that read 'WAGNER, KILL YOUR ROOMMATE. [HEART] SAM PINK'.

i think reading sam pink is like opening a letter-bomb because i feel like it is dangerous and i feel like i could suffer greatly for the rest of my life if i continue doing so.

i am excited when i read sam pink. i feel like i am lost in the woods on my way to visiting my caveman friend. in the woods i am stepping over dead animals and watching tiny pink flowers grow from moss.

the chapbook is short lines of intense poetry or something. everything is micro-size except for one poem which is like two page long. this is his 'epic'.

noah cicero wrote something a while back about how writers have to understand that 'literariness' is dead and they have to begin as sort of literary cavemen and start all over again, discover sentences again, live minimally. sam pink is probably the cro-magnon equivalent of charles baudelaire. sam baudelaire is building a little home in the woods and when he is finished he will sit inside cross-legged and look out. when he comes out i will be more excited.

interesting nouns in YYICWTD: stone, cloud, marks, pond, roots, notches, 'check this shit out, motherfucker', home.

interesting verbs in YYICWTD: press, sleep, lie, touch, expand, shave, put, eat, working towards.

the other night i was drunk. i pulled out the chapbook and read it out loud to all my drunk friends. a few lines into it i understood that no one wanted to hear this. everyone was being polite. i had the distinct feeling impression of being perceived as a troglodyte. i turned around and limped out of the room.