Luck Is For Shallow Men: A Short Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

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Luck Is For Shallow Men: A Short Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

Luck Is For Shallow Men- A Short Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Pick-Up Line-Break

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Ella’s Pawnshop: A Short Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

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Ella’s Pawnshop: A Short Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

Ella’s Pawnshop–A Short Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

Self-Fulfilling Prophecies: A Ten-Minute Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

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Self-Fulfilling Prophecies: A Ten-Minute Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

Self-Fulfilling Prophecies– A Ten-Minute Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

“Another Song About Sex, Drugs, & Rock ‘N’ Roll” from “Folie A Deux,” a Musical-in-Progress by Leva & Donberg

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Coitus Interruptus: A Ten-Minute Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

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Coitus Interruptus: A Ten-Minute Play by Sterling Arthur Leva

Coitus Interruptus by Sterling Arthur Leva

I Am A Grown Man And I Collect Clowns

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Author reading an excerpt of his personal narrative at the 2014 WALL Literary Journal public reading.

Sterling Wormwood Live at Knucklehead’s in San Clemente, CA on Halloween

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I will be handing out tricks and treats at this one.

Flyer Knuckleads 10-31-14

“Quarry” by Sterling Arthur Leva

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“Quarry” by Sterling Arthur Leva

I invented time travel for one purpose and one purpose only: to murder Jackson Pollock.

When that glorified finger-painter hit the scene, he opened the door for every talentless dribbler to proclaim, “I’m an artist, man!” The effects of his work would be long-term and nefarious, indeed: technical skill, diligence, and honing one’s craft would become largely irrelevant as malformed clusterfucks of color gained prominence. It was nothing personal against Jackson, though: how was he to know that his drunken masturbatory experimentation would forever taint art as we know it? No, it was nothing personal; the fucker just needed to be stopped.

I knew I had to get to Pollock before LIFE did that infamous spread, in which some philistine journalist asked the rhetorical question, “Is he the greatest living artist in the United States?” Fucking LIFE, man. I couldn’t allow this to happen: I had to make sure he wasn’t living period. But I didn’t want to deprive the guy of his entire life. I’m not a savage, after all, and I wasn’t about to go back in time and off his pregnant mom or strangle him in his stroller or anything like that. I just needed to get to him before his silly artistic ambitions took hold.
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Poetry Reading: Sterling Arthur Leva at The Ugly Mug October 8, 2014

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I will be reading a set of poems for this event. The flyer claims I’m an idiot, so I will do my best to prove it right, I suppose.
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