Sunday, December 26, 2021

I'm sorry, grandma by Giovanni Mangiante

back in 2014
I stayed a few nights
at my grandma's 
house.
I brought my laptop
and
slept on the couch.
after everyone
had gone
to bed
around midnight,
I began
my usual porn binge.

the next night
my grandma showed up
in the living room
a few minutes after
midnight.
she was wearing her
old lady pajamas
and had a roll
of toilet 
paper in her hand.

"here's paper in case
you need it" she said,
and left.

I stared at the wall
after she was gone
and let every
single
motherfucking demon
consume me.





Giovanni Mangiante is a poet from Lima, Peru. He has work published in Newington Blue Press, Rusty Truck, The Daily Drunk, Anti-Heroin Chic, Heroin Love Songs, Rat's Ass Review, Three Rooms Press, and more. In writing, he found a way to cope with BPD.

Thursday, December 23, 2021

A Rainy Visit by Paul Rousseau

We bundle in raincoats and scurry to a slab of marbled stone. We stand like wilted sunflowers amidst the cadenced patter of raindrops. I glance at our oldest daughter. She is reciting a prayer, silently, or perhaps her lips are weeping, I cannot say, for the rain hides all tears. We breathe a deep breath and bid farewell, as if you are really there, six feet under in a sunless loam, waiting. 




Paul Rousseau (he/him/his) is a semi-retired physician and writer published in The Healing Muse, Blood and Thunder, Hektoen International, Intima. A Journal of Narrative Medicine, The Human Touch, Pulse. Voices From the Heart of Medicine, Please See Me, Months To Years, (mac)ro(mic), 433 Literary Magazine, Sunspot Literary Magazine, The Examined Life, Dr. T. J. Eckleburg Review, Tendon, and others. Nominated for The Best Small Fictions anthology from Sonder Press, 2020. Lover of dogs.





Saturday, December 18, 2021

Dinner With Family and Friends by Kevin R. Farrell

Spilled his drink, spilled his guts,
“I prefer the non-fiction works of French existentialists and American transcendentalists over the fictional melodrama of god driven texts.”

“The adults in the room are talking” they said in unison.
“Hold your dead horses, look them in the mouth, lead them to water...Hey! Are you listening to what I’m saying!?”
They heard him, but weren’t listening.
Typical.

“I’ll never hear your face or see your name again!” he left walking backwards out the front door.
Talking to himself now, more of disgruntled muttering, don’t all mutterings come from a place of disgruntlement?
“Damned if you do don’t if you’re damned”
“We’ve had the death of a generation, now here’s our generation of death.”
“I’m lucky I haven’t smacked the shit out you verbally yet...”
“I only raise my hands to the sun.”
“I don’t salute symbols, flags or otherwise.”
“I rarely shoot from the hip these days,
holstered my words when I let go of triggers.”

The next day at his therapy session, his therapist asked what he did this weekend, he said “fine.”
“What did you do?”
“Had dinner with family and friends.”
“Oh! That’s big, it’s been awhile. How did it go?”
“Fine”
“Just fine? What did you guys talk about? They must’ve been happy to see you. Anything you want to discuss?”
“Not really.”
“What are you paying me for?”
“What am I paying you for?”
“Listen, it isn’t mandatory you be here. You’ve met the court required amount of sessions. You can go and never come back.”
“Now you sound just like them. I like that. Just do me a favor...”
“Depends on what the favor is...”
“Invite me back...”
“...okay, would you like to come back next week?”
He got up. Put on his jacket. And left.





Kevin R. Farrell, Jr. is a New York based artist, poet, and educator whose work has been published in BONED – Every Which Way, Burning House Press, Rumble Fish Quarterly, Adroit Journal, Ink in Thirds Magazine, Foxhole Magazine, Yo-NEWYORK! and others.

In 2021 Farrell released Best of the Worst which consists of 20 poems that have risen to the top of the trash heap that is his constant documentation of a life spent toeing the line between spiritual bliss and emotional upheaval. As a recovering addict each day can be a struggle when dealing with the dumpster fire that is modern day existence. Sometimes Farrell attempts to put out the fire, on other days he warms his hands by the flames.



Thursday, December 16, 2021

Not To Brag But Yeah by John Patrick Robbins

"Hey man, in my newest mag I published all the biggest names in the scene. So who are you going to publish in your mag, being that most writers hate your guts?"

I took a sip of my drink trying to not break the illusion that my so-called friends' snarky bullshit bothered me.

"Well, have you heard of a certain writer who hasn't written shit in like forever?"

"Okay you got me curious you prick, just who is this supposed big name?"

Tommy replied.

"Well I'm not trying to brag but have you ever heard of God?"

My friend went speechless, as clearly his mind was officially blown.

As you reading this are like wow, John finally has lost it.

Yeah if lost it, totally means fucking rocks the socks of this mofo.
You're damn right nah nah.

Suck it other mags that don't publish me!
Due to being total pussies and the fact so and so doesn't like me.
Yet I'm still on your friends list because you secretly want to see what crazy shit I will come up with next.

And the winner is....

Duh! Me always. 


#humblefucker





John Patrick Robbins, recently relocated to a beautiful theme park within his mind.
And is currently directing his first feature film, a remake of the romantic comedy.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, he enjoys knitting sweaters and collecting back issues of Screw magazine and playing with his renaissance band that only does Abba covers.

He once pissed on an electric fence,  after swimming across the English channel he hasn't been right ever since.

His publications include several issues of the yellow pages anthology where he was listed under his real name Nicholas Sparks.

He is currently watching you through your Webcam at this very moment.


Mmmmmmm sexy.

Monday, December 13, 2021

ARE YOU SAD? by Laura Stamps

Yes! That’s what most people would say. How do I know? Because last year CNN created a special poll just to ask this question. And the majority of the people polled said they were sad. Sadly, 48% of those people had been sad for over a decade. Sadly, I used to be one of them. Why? Many many reasons, but here are two. First, there’s the obvious. My name. Zanzibar. This is what happens when your mother is the geography teacher at the local high school. She names you after a tropical island that no longer exists. Thanks, mom. The second reason? My dreams. They never turn out well. Last night I dreamed a former client invited me to breakfast. How nice! But what did she serve? A dozen sample-size jars of peanut butter. Each one was a different flavor.  Each one looked yummy. Too bad I’m allergic to peanuts. See? No relief for me. Awake or asleep. None whatsoever. No wonder I’ve been sad for thirteen years. Until today. Today, I was cured. And I have Sally to thank for it. Sally’s family lives in the house next door. Today, Sally arranged her Barbie dolls, a teapot, and several cups on a blanket in her front yard. She was having a tea party. This is what five-year-olds do. When Sally saw me come out to prune my roses, she said, “Zani, did you know all those sad voices in your head are just your karma seeking release, and if you stop fighting those voices and allow them to come and go without judgement, you’ll eliminate most of your karma and never have to deal with sadness again?” Then she poured an imaginary cup of tea and offered it to her dolls. “Sally, you don’t sound like you’re five years old,” I said. Sally set the teapot down and gave me a withering look. “I’m the lighthouse, Zani, not the lifeboat,” she said. Well, then. That settles it. I have seen the light. Hallelujah! I’m cured.   




Laura Stamps loves to play with words and create experimental forms for her fiction. Author of several novels and short story collections, including IT’S ALL ABOUT THE RIDE: CAT MANIA (Alien Buddha Press). Muses Prize. Pulitzer Prize nomination. 7 Pushcart Prize nominations. Mom of 4 cats. Twitter: @LauraStamps16. www.laurastampsfiction.blogspot.com  

Thursday, December 9, 2021

Storytellers by Lauren Scharhag

She counts the ways in which
storytelling 
saved her life: 

Mommy and Daddy fighting. 
Once, there was a girl who was born 
smack-dab in the middle 
of two warring kingdoms. 

Daddy’s fists. 
A monster came crashing 
out of the woods 
and attacked her. 

Divorce. 
The girl was forced 
to flee her homeland 
and live in exile. 

At the new school, 
the other children were cruel. 
The villagers regarded her as strange, 
but that was all right. She knew 
a greater destiny awaited. 

She had to get a job young. 
A cruel master forced her 
to clean the castle every single day, 
from top to bottom. If she didn’t, 
she had no coin with which 
to buy food for her family. 

Every day, every night, she built 
castles and empires in her mind, 
forged swords, bested chimeras, 
breathed magic. 

Then one day, she had 
a little girl of her own. 
When her little girl was still 
just a baby, she fastened 
a golden key around her neck 
and bade her never take it off. 

Little one, 
this is the key to my kingdom. 
May it bring you 
the strength and joy 
it’s given me. 

We are storytellers.




Lauren Scharhag is the author of fourteen books, including Requiem for a Robot Dog (Cajun Mutt Press) and Languages, First and Last (Cyberwit Press). Her work has appeared in over 150 literary venues around the world. Recent honors include the Seamus Burns Creative Writing Prize, three Best of the Net nominations, and acceptance into the 2021 Antarctic Poetry Exhibition. She lives in Kansas City, MO. To learn more about her work, visit: www.laurenscharhag.blogspot.com



Wednesday, December 1, 2021

Death Rattle & Roll: Book Review by Scott Simmons

If the title didn't make it obvious Death Rattle & Roll has a heavy focus on you guessed it: Death! However it is done in a very beautiful way and it is the most refined work from John Patrick Robbins that I have ever read and this book showcases some of the best pieces in his catalog. If I had to describe the book in a nutshell I'd say its a dark gothic poetry collection blended with memoirs, fiction, and a touch of John's smart ass sense of humor.

My personal favorite piece in this entire book was "For The Father I Never Knew" because it shows a very real part of who he is as a person vs. the wild charismatic character a lot of his readers would probably expect. As in that write he allows himself to be vulnerable and describes one of the deepest pains of his life very honestly and gives his readers a real moment to connect with him or maybe even reflect about someone they might have lost too. However his stories such as "Ben", "Hold My Beer", and "Not of Steel Simply Shame" shows some lighter moments that he recalls old friends that are now long gone that are both funny and yet also has a subtle undertone of sadness because it reminds the readers that these great characters can no longer enrich the world with their stories and leaves you with a sense of loss.

The fiction in the book will definitely entertain you as well with horror pieces like "House of Eternal Night" and "Tex" but it offers different flavors as well such as "Here Lies Sally Gibbons" and some Frank Murphy pieces. There were a few poems that pushed the humor a bit too heavy for some of the more intense readers but ultimately they also added a unique balance to the book that allows you to have a rollercoaster of emotions and as a result makes the heaviest pieces hit you that much harder.  However these entertaining moments all blend together so well without it feeling excessive in a way that takes away from the beautiful darkness of the book as a whole.

Death Rattle & Roll is a true hybrid of a book that will offer something different than readers would ever expect and it makes me very curious about whatever project John will decide to do next as it offers a  morbidly wholesome slice of life, some sharp cynical humor, and really memorable fiction in a very sleek package. Overall the book is extremely versatile and it will definitely catch your attention as even the interior is more stylized than his other books and the cover creates a truly classical style. 

If you enjoy his writing or you would like to discover more I would highly recommend reading this book because it's a real experience to read.










Don't Eat Paint Chips Or Become A Poet By JPR

"Hey, is your mag open to submissions?" I run a daily unless the voices tell me not to because they want to party. "The mag i...