All four of your micro-fiction pieces, “The Ocean,” “Accepting Seconds,” “Lenscrafters is the Most Magical Place On Earth” and “Shitting and Eating and Fucking,” are all different and yet your inimitable voice is constant in each one. Love all of these and there are some especially memorable lines throughout.

“Now I’m thinking of you, I’m thinking of love and how it sidesteps when it should march.”

“I am handed frames made from the remains of my childhood home and feel true regret for the first time.”

What was the inspiration for these pieces that you wrote?

It’s tough for me to throw out a specific inspiration. When it’s flash fiction like this, I ask myself how someone like James Tate or Zachary Schomburg would do it, and try to copy that. Really most of my writing is just reading a bunch of a specific author and trying to imitate him or her. It’s hard for me to think of myself as “a writer”, and easier to think of myself as “a guy who reads a lot and can mimic what he likes”.

I think that’s basically the definition of a writer. We’re all just reading and taking some, reading and taking some more. I’m a fan of your work. I’ve been reading your poetry, prose poems and fiction. Are you thinking of putting together a collection?

I think about it a lot, but I’ve never actually sat down and put something together with any kind of cohesive theme or tone. I don’t really ever set aside time to write, I just do it when the feeling hits, and I think I’d need to change that to get something together that would make sense as a collection.

I’m just glad you’re out there writing when you do. Okay, now for the serious questions. How long could you sustain just shitting, eating and fucking? What about drinking? And if you include drinking, what is the drink of choice?

Finally, I’ve always wanted someone to interview me about how long I can fuck for, but I’m afraid you’ll have to buy me something first. I only fuck in exchange for goods or services (ladies).

But yeah, some of my favorite pastimes include eating, shitting, and fucking, so I think I could sustain for a long time. If I get to drink too, then that’s just gravy. Gravy is also my drink of choice.

If there was a nuclear explosion would you want to implode in the epicenter or be one of those survivors building trenches underground, shitting, eating, fucking and foraging?

I’d much rather die in the epicenter. I’m not accustomed to a life where I have worry about surviving, and I’d probably be really bad at it. I’m also unsure about fucking in a post-apocalyptic trench, is that something the ladies can get into?

Purely for propagation of the species, DJ, of course.

If you were a waiter and could spit in anyone’s soup, whose soup would it be? I had a friend who
spit in Norman Mailer’s soup and watched him slurp it up. This was after Norman had beaten the crap out of one of the many wives he scaled his way through.

If I were a waiter, it would be at a spit bar, so I would spit in everyone’s spit drinks.

Do you have a quote that you love?

“There are no entities, only processes.” -Frank Hinton, I Don’t Respect Female Expression.

Can we end this with a prompt for a micro-fiction? You’re on death row and this is your last meal. What would it be?

I’ll have some gravy with a side of spit, please.

Beautiful! Thank you so much, DJ, for an entertaining interview. Look forward to reading more of your work!

Thank you, Meg, for the chance to be featured at Connotation Press. It really is an honor. Your kind words and faith inspired me to write these pieces, so I’d like to thank you for that too. You’re amazing! Hell, everyone is amazing.