“You know we could kill all these people, and they wouldn’t even see it coming,” Aaron said, as we were walking around Nick’s neighborhood in Pelham, after getting shot at by farmers on four-wheelers in a cow field in Chelsea for trespassing to harvest mushrooms. Psilocybe cubensis, if you wanna get specific. We all just looked at Aaron, pretending to be in shock. We weren’t … Continue reading Cathedral for Bad Decisions by Dee P. R. Kay
I know I am going to regret this but I want to say something about death. Not death in general, but my own death. That event of utmost uncertainty. The luck that got me here presumably peters out, drops the ball, as it were, folds, takes one for the team and determines, by way of virtually indisputable statistical evidence, to give up the ghost. Yeah. … Continue reading Metaphysics by Robert Witmer
I keep trying to explain it to Ringo. My dog, a golden retriever. I didn’t mean to leave it behind. Not at first anyway. Ringo’s willing to fetch whatever it is, but I keep trying to explain. We just can’t go there. Private property. The law. The right to bear arms. What’s left be damned. The River Styx in your craw, my pet peeve. The … Continue reading Il Ritorno di Ringo by Robert Witmer
It’s no secret at this juncture that there has been an ongoing “crisis of masculinity.” What that means, ultimately, is that most hetero men can’t fathom why their continued performance of outmoded masculine “ideals” aren’t translating and/or attracting women in the present. Enter Jessa Crispin to explain it all via the films of Michael Douglas, in a book titled What Is Wrong With Men. With … Continue reading Michael Douglas Movies Document a “Crisis of Masculinity” Trajectory, Or: Jessa Crispin’s What Is Wrong With Men Answers That Question and Then Some
In the dark she would whisper all the ways I could go— off the ledge a speeding car No one would have to know Bury myself inside myself or maybe under a scalpel Be consumed by alcohol one bite of a poisoned apple Two girls still in pigtails leading second-hand lives… we wiped blood off floors our swollen lips one—her inner thighs Polished silver with our tears while the living room was dying All the shades were at half-mast leaky … Continue reading Secrets by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko
When Your A-EyeIs An A-HoleAnd YourGods AreOn ThePayroll.Spam Risk.White Lies.Loose Lips.Commie Spies.When Your Micro Will Not ProcessCan’t AskGoogle How To Cross Dress.Spam Risk.Bad Chip.Floppy Disk.Landing Strip.When Your Numbers All TurnRed.All Your HackersDaily Bread.Spam Risk.Free Porn. Get Frisked.Reborn.There’s A BotIn YourHead.Say GoodbyeTo Street Cred. There’s A BotIn YourHead.Blow Up DollIn Your Bed. Continue reading Spam Risk by Charlie Robert
Are you surprised I am dead?—me too! I’m usually more than a soccer mom with a wife, a dead husband,and a six-year-old son. I left with unfinished poems,a glove compartment of stuffiesand a hole in my windshield. I tried to act casual about it—the masked men, eyes bugging out of their headspadded flak vests and crackling voices.I backed up and turned my wheel. You saw how icy the … Continue reading How are you this January evening? by Dale Champlin
I look up again at the tree above me—the kind that seems to appear only in childhood. Parisian spring light filters through its young branches and lays itself across my body. I have no wish to disparage Paris in spring; her sun is warm, dazzling even, and yet she feels cold to me—not in temperature, but in tone. This season’s light carries no golden filter, … Continue reading Post-Spring by Leon Sun
Renee Nicole Good,poet, writer, mother of three.A domestic terrorist. She had it coming to her!Stuffed animals in her glove compartment,the family dog in the backseat. Renee Nicole Good,Loving, forgiving and affectionate.She had a whistle strung around her neck, They came for her with guns.Roving gangs of masked Gestapo. Renee Nicole Good,A domestic terrorist.They shot her three times in the face. She had it coming to her!This spring of … Continue reading Renee Nicole Good by Thomas Wells
There is a persistent embrace,a longing and a kissing,a childlike giggling,a free and predictable smile. Life foresees every dawning,foretastes every light ray,foretells every essence,forecasts every ambience. Life proclaims every mountaintop,every sultry, tangled jungle,every scorched and waterless desert,every fathomless ocean floor. Dreams are uncharted roadmaps,virtual animated realities,virtual luminous mysteries,virtual unconscious answers. When we are manhandled, our humanity maligned,our freedoms denied,Hope must never leave us. Hope is a relentless … Continue reading Hope is Relentless by Thomas Wells
