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Go Mom was the brain child of one sick deviant known as Norris H. Buckman. Being neither man nor myth, Buckman is the freakish creative union of myself and Elliott Kuhn. In 2008, after four years of collaboration, we parted ways, each of us embarking on our own solitary journey through the varied voids and wastelands of imagination. These days Kuhn finds himself residing in that bustling metropolis of urban ingenuity known as Mexico City. He spends his days gallivanting about, painting masterpieces, and back-talking high school students. As for myself, I have washed up on the crusty shores of Oakland, California, where I drinks too much coffee, eat the occasional chicken-fried steak, and color outside the lines of coloring books. Needless to say, we had a heckof a time together over the years, which in turn made Norris H. Buckman into a man of depth and bravado. You see Buckman's whole M.O. is to aggravate and simultaneously stimulate the grey sacks of silly putty going horribly under-used in the skulls of the consumer populace. It's not pretty, and he likes it like that. This is for the rejects, the vagabonds, the sinners, and the book burners. This poetry is not poetry at all, it's a social experiment; science fiction; a goddamn IOU to the suits in charge, with no intent to pay it all back. Let the words be what they can. Let our lives be what they should. To see some poems check out the videos section. Also visit Norris on facebook and myspace! Enjoy! |
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