Recipes: Incubus, Succubus, Poltergeist (2003)
This book first coalesced in Bellingham, Washington, during a series of rainy winter afternoons. Materials were abundant. Bottomless free boxes offered scraps and paperbacks with covers happily decayed. Themes would arise in the midst of digging, then morph or develop as I spread the finds out on my weird little sublet’s shag carpet: fortuitous doubles of women holding cats; dreamlike photos of laser projections on a canyon wall; a naked man asleep, his cock and balls on display. Things kept showing up where they didn’t belong. Problems were being transmuted rather than solved. I was still in the closet then, and I think some obscure agent of my brain must have been devising an escape plan: new narratives pieced together from the old. In this way, the incubi made themselves just as known as the poltergeist.