My wife got home from work and our youngest son ran over to her and yanked her sleeve. “Hey, Mommy, I saw Daddy on TV this afternoon,” he shouted. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she patted him on the head and told him to calm down. I had left the house early and headed over to … Continue reading Mystery Solved by Ron Kolm
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A city of romance, a city of trash, a city of tourists, a city perpetually burning. For those who can see and hear the poetry in Paris, no matter what state it’s in, Rufo Quintavalle’s incisive collection, which addresses subjects and towns well beyond la France, is the perfect élixir for enfants terribles and modèles de vertu alike. Enjoy un petit goût of the book via Quintavalle’s Bandcamp here. Available September 30th. Continue reading The Opiate Books Presents: I Love Paris by Rufo Quintavalle
Against an old Chevrolet on Maudlin Street, I smoke a cigarette—hard—chuckling at the hisses and howls of alley cats beneath the butcher shop’s broken neon sign. They flick their tails and prowl about, pestering fellas headed home to cold wives and cold dinners, straight from the misery of their long evening shifts. Persistent, with purrs and claws—smooth as cream—they graze oily pant legs (and thighs) … Continue reading Midnight Specials by David Estringel
Love (this love) has left the room feet first— a procession of embers and ash. Illusions. Delusions. Damnable oxygen thief! So goes the stuff of paper hearts and fiery tongues, of promises—hollow— past oily lips and teeth that bite,sworn, born to outlive names etchedon gravestones. Won’t you kill me, softly, with one last kiss? Blitheful consciousness. Walking sleep. Ignorant bliss. Then call the shomer down the street. He really knows his Job. Rip the collar, drape the mirror, pawn the wedding silver. Take your soul home, rockin’ its funerary black, and the stone I gave … Continue reading Sitting Shiva by David Estringel
Free Guns.Amen.Free Will.No Go.Road Kill.Road Show.Play Fast.And Loose.Get Cooked.By Your Goose.Get Goosed.By The Cook.Sucker Punch.Captain Hook.There Are Gods.In The Sky.Captain Crunch.Captain Bligh.GI Joe.Barbie Too.Hardy Boys.Nancy Drew.There Are Guns.On The Street.There Are Guns.Made Of Meat.There Are Guns.Painted Red.There Are Guns.In Your Head.There Are Gods.Posting Likes.Fully Clawed.Out Of Sight.Firing Squad.Do It Right.Please Applaud.Say Goodnight.There Is Love.In The Air.There Is Love.Underwear.There Is Lust.Angel Dust.Take Your Time.Earn Their Trust.News … Continue reading News at Ten by Charlie Robert
My story seemed as fulsome as real time could make it.I saw storm fronts arrive bringing wind shifts on the flats.I heard rustling in dark corners that I tried to enlighten, enliven.There were conversations that I couldn’t forget, and nowthey’ve grown gargantuan, I listened, I heard.And the voice of Miley Cyrus wafted through the hall: was it a moan?Why did her loss of love matter … Continue reading A Globe by Dale Cottingham
My lover is walled into silence. I used to sit by the trash cans in my back alley smoking a joint while no one was looking. I called it desperation. My silence was all-consuming—too early pregnant—looking at gravel in the potholes back there and the neighbor’s dog wiggling and whining for a cuddle. Can you imagine? I wanted to swallow the back gate, the garage, … Continue reading Pregnant and Screaming by Dale Champlin
Sometimes. Sometimes at night,When dreams won’t come,And sleep feels far away,And visions of the past mistakes,Lay at my feet and keep me up,Playing games that only sleep can play.Think about the things I’ve done,And things I might wish back,But wishes cannot change the past,Power to affect the past,the wishes always seem to lack. Lakes are holes of consequences,Filled with tears shed in regret,While rivers run … Continue reading Sometimes by Rich McFarlin
A dream awake stale airSliding in and out of consciousnessBetween dream and awakeDizzy nauseous feelingsOf regret and satisfactionThe night is a blank slateBetween self and midnightDrinking too much before workPlight of being humanOf sunken eyes black dotsNot quite passed outNot quite awakeGarbage pile mattress Continue reading At Starbucks Working, Passed Out on a Pile of Garbage After a Night of Excessive Drinking by Issac Cordova
Bugs inside my head,In a near exploding moodMy body was a road withBugs driving all over my skinYou try many of times, the gum,The type of twelve-step addict stuffThe turkey is frozenColder than ice thenAnd I’m going coldAll the bugs come backBugs crawling through everySweat gland in my bodyThen you yell randomlyAt people on your side.My pops had a glass vialWith a cigarette and a … Continue reading Break Glass in Case of Emergency by Issac Cordova
