Rich Baiocco

WRITING Published Elsewhereplace
BOOT N' RALLY zine Issue #1
DADDY ISSUES & DRONE NOISE essay :: 'What A Beautiful Face' Neutral Milk Hotel zine
The Dropbeatles :: Everyday Genius
Kentucky Backworld Conduits :: The Smoking Poet(scroll down)
Are You Decent :: Blog San Diego

my blacksmith teacher told me that a typical apprentice job in the ‘old days’ was to make 100 nails in a day, along with a lot of other tasks… it took me 3 hours to make 8 … before moving West, people would burn down their houses, just to save the nails … you could tell how wealthy people were by the nails used on their front door … the more visible hammer blows on the head of the nail, the more expensive they were … the hammer blows are called clout … the richer you were the more clout you had ….

from Doris 26 by Cindy Crabb

This was a letter from the author’s friend who included a nail in the envelope. Never knew where that phrase came from. Tomas bought me this zine last night at Pegasus when I told him I’d never read Doris. Thanks dude. 

Keeps Documenting


we have the right to film the police. they don’t like it because it may compromise their tyrannical authority or make them look bad, but we as americans have the right not to be censored.

the police need to be policed. all power needs checks & balances, and by capturing things on film there’s at least an undeniable counterweight against these seriously oppressive, racist, and fkn homicidal abuses of power.

cops may demand you stop filming, they may try to block you from filming, they may demand you erase your camera, and they may demand your cellphone be handed over, but they don’t have any legal recourse to do so without a search warrant unless under exigent circumstances. these circumstance are that a cop has a strong belief you are in the process of deleting evidence on your camera/cell, which clearly, you aren’t. they don’t have the legal recourse to delete the evidence that you have on them.

we can step away from the scene and continue filming.

under the First, Fourth, and Fourteenth amendment of the United States Constitution we have the protected right to film an arrest, or any duty of a police officer performed in public. in 2012 the U.S. Department of Justice made as much clear in the case of Christopher Sharp v The Baltimore City Police Department  wherein it deemed a Baltimore resident’s constitutional rights were violated when officers seized, searched, and deleted his cellphone after it was used to record officers forcibly arresting Mr. Sharp’s friend. yesterday a memo went out to the NYPD reminding them that they can be filmed while performing their duties.

im just putting this info out there because a lot of people may not be familiar with their own rights and it’s confusing when a police officer - someone who can threaten arresting you, and is in a position to take away your freedom (possibly your life) - is coercing you to stop filming, or to hand over your camera, or erase that recording. 

we have the right to step away and continue filming. we have rights.


Bob Dylan - spontaneous poetry. improv language. something like watching a kid see how far she can sprint across a balance beam



Dear friends: Can anyone out there help us get the word out about this new Adam Gnade zine? We could use any help you could muster! Word of mouth is better than gold!


Looks like my new thing might be ready to mail out to you all BEFORE Friday. EXCITED. If you want one it’s called SIMPLE STEPS TO A LIFE LESS SHITTY and it’s about living free and unencumbered by awful bullshit. It’s five bucks. Find it right here:



Last Day of Zine Month…then what? Then nothing. Keep Going With What You Like


It’s been a good summer for laundry because its been a good summer for dirty clothes; and since I’m at the laundromat (The Wishy Washy) a lot, it’s been a good summer for reading zines. I’ve road-tripped a bunch, camped a bit, went down to a part of Mexico I’ve never been, and didn’t go back to New York at all which is new for me. I put out a Jv poem called They Not Love Ballad Of Goodbye Brooklyn, Forever and then realized I’ll never go back there to live, as fun and as hard, and as broke as that part of my life was. It’s gone now, Brooklyn. And the friends I have there, Kevin, Gloria, Honey, Frankie, Lone Wolf Tribe, I convince them to come visit in San Francisco and get some new perspective instead. Open the field. 

The top zine on that pile is Rust Belt Jessie’s Reckless Chants no. 20: A Field Guide To Vanished Things. Ithas me thinking all nostalgically and I think that’s kind of awesome for writing to do that. I bought the zine right when it came out, but saved reading it because I knew I was taking a roadtrip to Wisconsin (Eau Claire) this July to help a friend of mine drive out to Denver. The zine has a Wisconsin Cold Storage Co. pic on the cover, and deals with towns near Milwaukee, but a lot of other places as well, which I’ve learned and liked about the author: how much America has been travelled.

Jessie speaks to vanished things that have not just disappeared by being torn down or people dying, but things that have changed to the point of being unrecognizable, sometimes right before your eyes. It’s that kind of vanishing that hurts me the most, and this zine offers up something of a salve in learning to sing the longing. (Sing, write, fuck, drink, run) If not fully accepting change then at least recognizing that it’s happening.

And it’s not easy. At all. There was a great line about how it seems everyday is some anniversary of one of your favorite heroes’ death. It’s true. I remember living in Manhattan a few years ago and hearing 3 Neil Young songs on the radio and thinking “oh shit, Neil Young must’ve died.” And the same thing will happen with Bob Dylan. Tom Waits may live forever, who knows? This zine kind of fights through it all in a good way, a lot of different forms (beer type list memories, quotes from Rebecca Solnit who i really want to read, song memories). There’s a short story Insect Summer #1 and a few poems, both of which are good, the last of which, Things My Father Gave Me is fucking killer and maybe my new favorite country song. I like that Jessie includes poems in the zines even though people met in the zine community or readers of Reckless Chants sometimes have hangups about poems in zines. Sonnet Reducer zine was a holler and FUN too. Anyways, check out RBJ and Reckless Chants 20. 88 pages! TWENTY issues so far. I’m a newb by comparison. What do I know? 

I recommend any of the zines/small press stuff in that pile. Message me if you want any info on them. The Cometbus bookstore day Oakland/Berkeley release contains one of the best essays I’ve read on self-publishing and zines. A Call To Arms, which I think was a broadside he put out for a Chicago Zine Fest a few years ago. Recommended by Tomas Moniz, who’s yellow zine there with the circle on the cover, Profane, is so damn good and creative. 

Once the madame of a frock shop had tried to dress her in pink. And even she, Margaret, had at the last minute before the gown was packed, denied the outrageous combination of herself and the color. Once an Italian barber had tried to kiss her and she had escaped the kiss. Once Michael had given her an orchid preserved in a glass ball, and now she could not find it. How horrible she felt in pink; how horrible the touch of the barber’s lips; how heavy was the glassed orchid on her breast.

Feeling lucky? Soon Michael would ask her that, after the sink was empty and her apron off. It was never luck she felt but she would smile. In the darkness the cat swallowed the last flake of herring.

John Hawkes - The Lime Twig

"How horrible she felt in pink"

In a motel room in Bloomington MN ~ a large wedding party of the drunkest friendly strangers just checked in from Duluth ~ putting the final edits on a manuscript I’ve been working on this summer ~ waiting for Apple to drive in from Eau Claire ~ then we’re heading through The Badlands, other South Dakota parts, Wyoming, Denver and back to SF ~ Maybe it’s the mix of Dylan and Iggy Azalea playing in the motel or that I miss you, but damn, I really want to win this one! Don’t you?

Rock Castle has his age, he has. And what’s his age? Why, it’s the evolution of his bloody name, that’s what it is? Just the evolution of a name - Apprentice out of Lithograph by Cobbler, Emperor’s Hand by Apprentice out of Hand Maiden by Lord of the Land, Draftsman by Emperor’s Hand out of Shallow Draft by Amulet, Castle Churl by Draftsman out of Likely Castle by Cold Masonry, Rock Castle by Castle Churl out of Words on Rock by Plebeian - and what’s this name if not the very evolution of his life?
John Hawkes, The Lime Twig (wherein a plot is hatched to kidnap a champion racehorse and run him under a different name but everything goes wrong)

Paint it as you go…
Sold my firework stash to the waitress at the diner last night for $10 and some free mozzarella stix. Jack came over to visit us for breakfast with some beers and watch a few soccer games. Made some sweet corn tacos with a ton of roast garlic in a crock pot. Finally saw that Muscle Shoals documentary - damn good. Damn good Friday.  Night’s coming on…

Paint it as you go…

Sold my firework stash to the waitress at the diner last night for $10 and some free mozzarella stix. Jack came over to visit us for breakfast with some beers and watch a few soccer games. Made some sweet corn tacos with a ton of roast garlic in a crock pot. Finally saw that Muscle Shoals documentary - damn good.
Damn good Friday.  Night’s coming on…

(Source: artruby, via paperdarts)