well, it's finally happened.

never before have I thought that my writing was
good enough that someone would want to pretend
it belongs to them, but apparently I was wrong.

the lovely ~wonderlustqueen pointed out
the following blog to me: [ link ]

I left a simple comment notifying the person
that I did in fact KNOW they stole it from me;
as well as that it was flattering...

However; this person also stole the poetry
of *YouInventedMe =KneelingGlory and several others

so take a stop by the blog [ here ]
to see if he/she has stolen any of your work;
to see the countless stolen poems; or just to
leave mean or rude comments...


with ALL that out of the way;
my first Pamphlet anthology is
on SALE now; and you can buy
your copy DIRECTLY from the publisher's
[ ETSY.COM account ] for just 6$,
get your copy now!!!


[ click here!! ] or on any of the images below
to purchase your copy while supplies last.

Already purchased a copy? leave a comment here
to let me know when you've made your purchase.





Summary;

Eric Hamilton's work (which draws on influences like Richard Brautigan and Charles Bukowski) can be dark, dirty, unflinching, reckless and rude – also a spoken-word artist, he takes what seem like poems for performance and wrestles them onto the page. The result is a book that crackles with life -- it draws you in, speaks to you directly: questions your morals and sucks you into conversation. These are stories of heartbreak, addiction, misery and loneliness, but also of courage, survival, happiness and hope. With his debut chapbook, Eric has created a fierce, startlingly original collection of pieces which reflect every aspect of what it is to be young in twenty-first century North America – the howling darkness, but also the light.





Eric Hamilton is a deranged artist who paints everything from canvas to freight trains. He also writes poetry and enjoys sharing his spoken word at slams or cafes everywhere from NYC out to LA. He was born and raised in Las Vegas, spent a lot of time living in east Los Angeles, and is now unemployed and attending college as a journalism major in New Jersey, where you can find him at art galleries and coffee shops politicking with the poets, art-fags, and random transient folk. He's a bit of a broken man who receives a lot of undeserved attention from women, smokes cigarettes, and stumbles in and out of short-term relationships looking for love. He spends most of his time waiting for lung cancer and responses from publishers, and has been known to occasionally set fire to a booklet of poems aged with the experience of time.