A bunch of fresh jawns

I usually let my sizzle lurk in the links a la derecha, but today I'm doing everything in my power to procrastinate on my deadlines. One of those abstracted days, when the sunlight seems hard and flat, and accomplishing anything, unlikely. So here's some stuff:

First off, Amy King recently solicited the Lucifer Poetics peeps for their favorite short poems. She's compiled them into a pretty sweet anthology that you can read heah. I selected Joshua Clover's "The Autumn Alphabets (3)" and several short, genre-bending pieces from John Barth's Lost in the Funhouse. Good reading for short attentions spans.

Second, WARNING: F7 has infiltrated the mainstream. Or is, at least, circling it warily. Check out my flarfy sestina about Paris Hilton and George Bush on McSweeney's heah.

What the shit, how 'bout one more: Heah's me on those crazy face-melting Swedes, Dungen, doing what they do best, i.e. melting total face.