Chuck Palahniuk Dominates the Hollywood Dream

by Allie Gerlach

Serendipity draws another deep
down into the talent pool; sinks.
Wet behind the ears,
but he doesn't care—

Chuck doesn't care.
His secret is he doesn't care.
But the lucre is filthy fun and
he's not one to say no,
so jump on and into the four-star
hotels. Just don't confuse compliance
with enthusiasm.
They can buy his name, his time,
but not his attention. That
he focuses on Survival.

Chuck challenges himself to write
and write something so compelling
that it goes beyond Kinko's,
beyond zines, beyond your small circle,
and shoves its foot down hard
Hollywood's greedy mouth.
Force Tinseltown to wring out with a message
it fears in search of scratch and brag.
Subversion wins that round!

Chuck drinks and drinks confounded
by the sudden question of evil and how
it relates to him. He who brought Ikea-
coated evil home to love. From a seven-
year-old Clorox killer (of fish) to a six-
month pillage of sexaholics, the best
place to start is not to begin. Next question.
He insists that the adventures are all true
and that he spent 12 years practicing
to land on his feet and not in jail.

The dream factory churns out
nostalgic home movies, beyond that
it is nothing to Chuck.
He doesn't care.

This poem was written in response to the 2002 Bookfest
panel, "The Hollywood Dream: When Books Become Movies."
The panel included Chuck Palahniuk, Marcus Stevens, and
Miha Mazzini, but the audience was primarily focused on and
fascinated by the star in the bunch, Chuck Palahniuk, author
of Fight Club. He seemed both embarrassed and delighted by
this attention.

Allie Gerlach is currently the stereotypical unemployed Web
developer who takes solace in her dreams of triumph and travel.
Poetry is a great outlet.