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“Text messaging, parasexual literature, and psychiatry in drag.”

I personally don’t know where relationships come from, but I suspect they are conceived in the gaps between our boundaries. Beau Rice’s Tex (Penny-Ante Editions, 2014) is an exploration of such borders and what connects them: a study in masculinity, language, and space in the form of 252 bound pages of text messages. Here Rice has archived eight months of an exclusively digital relationship with the diffident Matt G. It is rife with emoji, word play, and theory; it is interrupted by emails from friends, Craigslist hookups, and someone who wants insurance money. The book treats sex (and there is a lot of it) as obscene and vulnerable, often both at the same time. Ultimately, maybe, Rice’s archive speaks of desire: in love, in language. It is the grid-work that fills the gap. Tex’s appeal to desire is electronically contoured, taking shape as a set of sentient haikus:

So much of the stuff i
read is inspired and
motivated by intense
writer people meeting
aloof/absent men and
being shaken up by them

but it’s like the 21st century,
don’t they know how to
have textual intercourse?”

Read the full interview w/ Beau Rice by Aiden Arata @ BOMB Magazine

 

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Filed under: Featured Creatives, Interviews

About the Author

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Jeremiah Walton is wary of bios, but there's the current sign they're flying: “Jeremiah Walton is founder of Nostrovia! Press & traveling bookstore Books & Shovels. They’ve featured at the NYC Poetry Festival, Oakland Beast Crawl, San Francisco Lit Crawl, Death Rattle, the Kansas City Poetry Throwdown, Cleveland’s Guide to Kulchur: Snoetry, among other lit fests, street corners, & living rooms across the country. They loath-themselves, & are struggling to find a healthy extension of the poem that incorporates publishing. Consistently confused, & trying to make space for compassion for the parts of myself I hate.” That feels like tattooing "love me" across my neck, but hopefully you get to know me thru my poems, not the accolades that are nothing more than memories to let go of.

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