John flew me out to Ellensburg for a publication party
for Black Messiah, the Henry Miller number. I had several
pieces in it. Indeed, I gave the magazine its name. And its
theme. Its thematic explanation, a poem. A short story.
An excerpt from a book-in-progress. An interview with
Donn Pearce, Dying in the Sun. The party was held in
a warehouse in
and Courtney Love. Then John and I went on a bookselling
odyssey to
Screed, and the Vagabond Anthology to Marxist Third-World\
Feminist bookstores, diesel dykes who have to kick-start their vibrator.
Wallet-toting lesbians, as
They weren’t interested in Henry Miller. They considered him a sexist pig.
Yeats said Swift served human liberty.