liquid lunch press

Amazing to me that in 25 years, I’ve never written

poems about pro wrestling.

I’ve written fan fiction and other things when I was

much younger, but never poems along these lines. I’ve broken

everything down into three sections. One for my memories.

One for random topics I felt like writing about. The third is a

shoot interview with a fictional wrestler named Mark Prime.

When Dan Wright asked me if I was interested in

doing this book with him, a lot of different ideas and anecdotes

from my past suddenly came rushing to me. I realized as I

started writing these that I had far more negative associations

with this weird, amazing form of athletic entertainment than

positive ones. This book doesn’t change that, but it did go

a long way towards making me understand why I stopped

watching to a significant extent a few years ago.

But I’ll always be a fan. It’s hard to shake something

that has been part of my life in some form or fashion for about

35 years. Like music and film, wrestling has been meaningful to

my influences and dreams and ideas in ways that are hard, perhaps

silly, to explain. No matter what, I can’t seem to quit wrestling

as a fan entirely.

Writing these poems reminded me of everything in

wrestling that depresses me, and everything about wrestling that

tires out my enthusiasm. At the same time, this book gave me

more enthusiasm for what I do love about this sport than I’ve

felt in quite possibly a full decade. I’ve exercised through writing

some of the things about pro wrestling that annoy or sadden

me, particularly most wrestling fans. What’s left is a book I’m

very proud of about a subject I’m glad has been part of my life.

Wrestling is surreal, heroic, ridiculous, dangerous, and

ultimately something that never fails to surprise me. It’s still real

to me dammit.