See that. That is a self-published poem. Granted it's handwritten with marker on masking tape, but still the work is out there (on Valencia near 17th actually). I like the slick typography plus it can be read while walking or from the bus if you can get the window open. There is the sticky problem of gum, but the same could be said of a book or even a kindle if the reader is careless.
Mr. Elvis Christ, the author, is our sidewalk poet laureate. He begs, borrows and steals the materials for his work which is not surprising since Mr. Christ is homeless. If you see him around town, please offer up your spare change. He's the real deal when it comes to verse and every writer needs an angel or two.
As for me? I don't want to self-publish even though I do have plenty of masking tape. I realize that if my manuscript falls in the forest and an agent isn't there to catch it then the chances are all 265 pages will molder away unread, BUT I have a dream. I shut my eyes and see an actual person, heart on fire, walking my work around while I (the writer) make up more stories.
Call me crazy, but I'm playing to my strengths. I'll let you know how it goes.
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