7 Reasons Why I Will Not See The Force Awakens: A Poem

1we are told to thanks/praise what the Creator has given us; in this same breath we are warned of idol worship

2i’m a Rebel without an alliance

3the tragedy of film, Luke, is that the actors grow old and weak. this shall not happen to Han Solo

4two words: Dexter. Jettster.

5i have left behind pokemon, power rangers, old toys in battered boxes. i will take only what i need to survive

6. You cannot make plastic my childhood.  you cannot buy back from me what was never mine.

7. even if sands of time do not bury us, it is still possible to choke on the dust of Tatooine

There’s still time to win a copy of Jason Bates’ The Littlest Spoon! Just leave a comment or find me on Twitter @libbycudmore

Guest Post: Jason Bates of Punks Write Poems

(Today’s post comes from Jason Bates, author of The Littlest Spoon, which I loved.  Jay and i have known each other for years, and he’s my absolute favorite poet. He was awesome enough to do my Sunday work for me, and I hope you’ll all run out and buy The Littlest Spoon)

I’ve noticed that oftentimes Libby (who in my head always has “the Liberator” attached to her name) starts her posts with a playlist. I am not sure if those are the songs she was listening to as she wrote the post, or songs that she believes the reader should listen to while reading the post, or is it both? (it’s both) I feel compelled, not by the Liberator of course, to capture the feel of Glam Geek Writes…so with that said, here be the playlist:

El Phantasmo and the Chicken-Run Blast-o-rama” by White Zombie.

Please Play This Song on the Radio” by Nofx.

Lock Step and Gone” by Rancid.

I Met Her At the Rat” by the Queers.

I struggled with the legitimacy of calling myself a writer when literally anyone with a computer and the ability to type letters, numbers or random symbols could publish their very own book. I had deep conversations with friends and loved ones about “success” and “publishing” and “accomplishment”. I drank beer, alone, and bought a pack of cigarettes after almost a year of clean lungs. I dug my old “the Queers” t-shirt out of the box in the closet. I remembered that I’m a punk ass motherfucker! I paced my weather-worn deck, blowing smoke and mumbling to myself about how DIY isn’t a TV station and how Nike didn’t invent “just do it” and how I didn’t need someone else’s permission to be a writer…to be a legit poet!

I decided on a number. The number of copies of The Littlest Spoon that I need to sell in order to personally validate myself as a writer. When that number is reached, I will put my copy on the shelf alongside my favorite books.

We’ve come to the end of my blog-bomb and I haven’t even introduced myself.


I’m a Jason.

Come say “hey” on twitter @BruHaHa222 or flip me off at punkswritepoems.tumblr.com

Jason will be giving away a signed copy to a random reader — leave a comment by Dec. 1 for a chance to win!

Old Sad Bastard Music


October Project: “Bury My Lovely”

“I Don’t Want to Get Over You” the Magnetic Fields

“CALL ME CALL ME” The Seatbelts feat. Steve Conte

“Letters” Stroke 9

“A Murder of One” Counting Crows

I’ll write about the amazing Writer Unboxed conference another day — I’m still unpacking, literally and figuratively!

…But a bit ago, I organized about 15 years of mix CDs into chronological order in an effort to sort out the chaos of my life (or possibly act out High Fidelity, Cosby sweater and all).  I even made a sweet little book to organize track lists, because I’m crazy like that.  It’s an ongoing project for when I have a few spare hours on a Saturday night; a trip down memory lane, a reminder that as cool and awesome as I may be now, I was once a girl who thought “Hey Leonardo (She Likes Me For Me)” was essential to have on my person at all times.

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