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Amazing to me that in 25 years, I've never written
poems about pro wrestling.
I've written fan fiction and other things when I was
much younger, but never poems along these lines. I've broken
everything down into three sections. One for my memories.
One for random topics I felt like writing about. The third is a
shoot interview with a fictional wrestler named Mark Prime.
When Dan Wright asked me if I was interested in
doing this book with him, a lot of different ideas and anecdotes
from my past suddenly came rushing to me. I realized as I
started writing these that I had far more negative associations
with this weird, amazing form of athletic entertainment than
positive ones. This book doesn't change that, but it did go
a long way towards making me understand why I stopped
watching to a significant extent a few years ago.
But I'll always be a fan. It's hard to shake something
that has been part of my life in some form or fashion for about
35 years. Like music and film, wrestling has been meaningful to
my influences and dreams and ideas in ways that are hard, perhaps
silly, to explain. No matter what, I can't seem to quit wrestling
as a fan entirely.
Writing these poems reminded me of everything in
wrestling that depresses me, and everything about wrestling that
tires out my enthusiasm. At the same time, this book gave me
more enthusiasm for what I do love about this sport than I've
felt in quite possibly a full decade. I've exercised through writing
some of the things about pro wrestling that annoy or sadden
me, particularly most wrestling fans. What's left is a book I'm
very proud of about a subject I'm glad has been part of my life.
Wrestling is surreal, heroic, ridiculous, dangerous, and
ultimately something that never fails to surprise me. It's still real
to me dammit.
