Tumblin’: Tag Savage, Writer of Sexpigeon
Sexpigeon’s voice is painfully, jealousy-inducingly unique. It’s something William S. Burroughs might have written if he’d been given the reigns to Vice’s “Dos and Donts” and an unlimited supply of that spice from Dune. Or maybe it’s nothing like that. Maybe paeans like this just play into the larger joke on writing that Tag Savage—its author—is constructing throughout the pages of Sexpigeon.
Either way, Sexpigeon is a work of actual, bullshitless genius. It’s simultaneously an ode to New York’s infinite beauty and irony, a semi-autobiographical toilet filled by an invisible, unknown narrator, and a weirdly beautiful experiment in what idiots like me might wrongly call “ekphrastic poetry.” As far as words on Tumblr go, it’s the best damn pile of ‘em around, and if you don’t love it then I’m not sure there’s any hope for you. Behold: the curtain parts, and Oz speaks.
Sexpigeon seems like a pretty logical response to living in the city, but was there any particular moment or idea that propelled you to start it?