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Satire

The Opiate Books Presents Lindsay Lohan Stole My Life: A Satire of the 00s

The book that was too hot to handle in Hollywood and all other mainstream locales (basically just leaving Italy, where scandal is sacrosanct and nobody reads anyway). Find out the truth about the 00s and the butterfly effect of Lindsay Lohan not only on our current Kardashian-Jenner driven culture, but on ex-socialite and underdog Tate Carmichael. Tate Carmichael Lindsay Lohan Stole My Life: A Satire … Continue reading The Opiate Books Presents Lindsay Lohan Stole My Life: A Satire of the 00s

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Poetry

Canicule by John Jack Jackie (Edward) Cooper

Shadows on a stationed camionseek refuge from the heat,its white carcass attracting them like flies,the avenue catches fire,and every car that flickers pastintensifies the flames.Still, passersby will keep this purgatory alive, despite intention to be somewhere —anywhere inside. I am inside,my particular hell a placewithout love, the longing for, revived. Continue reading Canicule by John Jack Jackie (Edward) Cooper

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Poetry

Gossip by Susie Gharib

The tenant of Wildfell Hall, in an aesthetic style,amputated small talk with a palette knife. Catherine Cookson, the child with no “Da”became the Dame of the British Empire.I look ahead and people melt before my eyes,their solidity dissolving into a mere mirage,a fragmented lie.I have learned to reduce to invisibilitywhoever attempts to pollute my pathwith tongues that waglike resurrected hags’. They bite into names with rabid … Continue reading Gossip by Susie Gharib

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Poetry

Positively Volcanic by Dale Champlin

We played a game—the floor was lava—we hopped from couch to chair,crab walked across the window seat,then swung from the chandelieronto the library table. If you knockedanything over—a book, a goblet,a bowl of flowers—you would burstinto flame. When that happened the little hairs of me shot straight up.I squealed.  “Pop Goes the Weasel” tinkledin my ears. Outside small wrenspeeped in the bushes. Mouthwateringsmells drifted from the … Continue reading Positively Volcanic by Dale Champlin

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Essay

Un Certain Schadenfreude Over Hetero White Male “Writers” Losing Their Coffee Shops As Posts For Self-Aggrandizement

With the bad, one must find the good where they can. The loss of the pseudo-intellectual city dweller’s go-to coffee shop amid the coronavirus outbreak has been an undeniable gut punch to small businesses that somehow seemed to have gotten less of a financial bailout from the government than the major corporations (quelle surprise, for it’s just like when the legal mafia a.k.a. government bailed … Continue reading Un Certain Schadenfreude Over Hetero White Male “Writers” Losing Their Coffee Shops As Posts For Self-Aggrandizement

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Essay

The Demise of Q Magazine: Another Death Knell for Music Journalism and Print

There have been few magazines in the annals of modern music history that have been as important as Q. Naturally British (for, despite its smallness, no other country has had as much of an effect on the trajectory of popular music as England–try as Amérique le Freak might to tell itself otherwise), Q was not your average puff piece-filled slop in the vein of J-14. … Continue reading The Demise of Q Magazine: Another Death Knell for Music Journalism and Print

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Poetry

The One by O’ar Pali

Like that one,Blissful note, Amid a hypnotic –Symphony,So, you’ve beenTo me. Like that first Bee sting That you remember,For a lifetime,To come…So, your eyes –To me, Have been, Just the One.  Like an evil,Yet, melodious – TuneThat one can’t Stop humming Even to his doom,Or a wormThat digs on Deep,So are the words, To me –You speak.  But,Like a mid savanna,Wild Stampede, Are those dainty Feet, and those Daunting deeds.  And Like the clouds that Spell rain Only to reveal the sun…Or … Continue reading The One by O’ar Pali

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Poetry

My Introduction to Leonard Cohen by Michael Berton

I’m twenty-two, working poverty’s wage, intellectually curious, full of Tex/Mex chicanery, while branching out in the D/FW metroplex Bible Belt watching slam dancers protest with their bodies at the 1984 Republican Convention. I sleep on couches or a bouncy air mattress supplied by the Red Cross. This is after the unforgettable fire burning off those youthful transgressions and immature ejaculations. Hangouts like Skippy’s Mistake, a … Continue reading My Introduction to Leonard Cohen by Michael Berton

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