Monday, May 23, 2022

Vacillant by Lauren Scharhag

This is my heart 
on a string,
the yeah, no, 
I mean, no, yeah.
Mind on a string,
back-forth, up-down,
pink-gray yo-yo
of desire and mood,
but the body—
the body swings 
only one way,
forward-forward.
A bird breaking itself
against glass,
forever-forever,
but for you, my lips
incapable of no-no,
only heaving myself
at what is solid,
praying that
these wings
are enough.




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



Friday, May 20, 2022

In The Know by Daniel S. Irwin

With a reputation for being
A studly man, a sex fiend and
A master of the lapping tongue,
As well as, commander of the
Magic ultra-satisfying hot dick,
A man could easily find himself
Desired by all wanton woman.
My question being, of course,
Where can a guy pick up one
Of them thar reputations?
But then, ya know, my life is
Already complicated enough.
I found me a fine, lusty woman,
‘Hot to trot’, as they say, and
Dang it, the rubber machine
At the gas station don’t take
The Bitcoin.  So much for my
Up to date financial savvy.




Daniel S. Irwin, a native of Sparta, Illinois.  Retired military.  Dudeist priest.  Dedicated heathen. Work published in over one hundred magazines and journals world wide.  Founder of The Hardened Sailors’ School of Vulgar Vernacular (now disbanded). Latest work can be found at/in Horror, Sleaze, Trash Magazine, Beatnik Cowboy, Cajun Mutt, The Rye Whiskey Review.  


Thursday, May 19, 2022

For Now by Joseph R. Larsen

Your man is working.  Work is never done.
We look through the curtains of his and your home.
The country goes on and on without an end.

The clouds gather too thinly to rain.
They send a breeze, a hot chagrin—
A fantasy with no way out.

You mock your man, and then praise me.
His days are paid.  My time is free.
But you spend your nights with him.

I can only imagine what you do
With inches separating the two of you,
And white moonlight peering in.

You drop him off at the work yard.
An hour later, we’re going at it hard.
I hold myself to bring you home.

We make all the love time will allow.
You will always be my lover for now.
This summer will still be here after we’ve gone.





Joseph R. Larsen is a prolific poet whose poetry has been featured in various publications including Blonde on Blonde, North Country, The Panhandler, Spiky Palm, and Texas Lawyer, and he is a regular contributor to the Archway Readings. Larsen is an attorney in Houston with a wide-ranging practice including defending First Amendment rights and was given the James Madison Award in 2010 by the Freedom of Information Foundation of Texas.





 

 

Thursday, May 12, 2022

JUST SAYIN' by Jay Passer

take your erasure
your ekphrastic
your haiku
and go back
to the womb
you lazy bastard





Jay Passer's work has appeared in print and online since 1988. His work has been included in several anthologies and he is the author of 10 books, the most recent being The Black and the Blues, from Alien Buddha Press, 2018. Passer lives and works in San Francisco, the city of his birth.


Wednesday, May 11, 2022

Holy Moly by Wayne F. Burke

“Some Catholics you kids are!”
Grandma scolds as
she ushers us out the
door, Palm Sunday—
“Hurry! You are going to be
late!”
We walk without haste to the
car.
My sister drives. My brother
sits in front and gives Sister
driving instructions.
Sister snaps “SHUT UP!
GO TO HELL!”
My brother says 
he will tell Grandma of the
language Sister uses…
A seething silence ensues.
The smoke stack of the
textile factory is higher
than the church steeple.
Sister does not dip her finger
into the holy water fount as
we enter
and as mass begins
she walks out—
her soul, I know
is black as coal
(mine white with touch of venial gray)
during the sermon
my brother falls asleep, cheek
on the varnished wood pew,
a string of drool from his mouth—
I punch him and
he wakes, but
instead of thanking me—
for saving his soul—
he whips me
on the ride home
with a palm
taken from the church.




Wayne F. Burke's poetry has been widely published in print and online (including in THE DAILY DOPE FIEND). He is author of eight collections of poetry--most recently BLACK SUMMER, Spartan Press, 2021. He lives in Vermont (USA).



Tuesday, May 10, 2022

RELATIONSHIP RESUMÉ by MICHAEL MINASSIAN

Just before we broke up,
my girlfriend from college
asked me if I ever

had written a record
of my relationships
like a resume, she said,

with dates, to and from,
experience, strengths, 
and weaknesses.

I wondered how long
it would take me
to write something like that.

Could I remember
names or places
and should I rate 

my favorite thing about them,
my least favorite thing,
or who broke up with who?

Skills? Objectives? References?
Please account 
for gaps in the dates.





MICHAEL MINASSIAN is a Contributing Editor for Verse-Virtual, an online poetry journal. His chapbooks include poetry: The Arboriculturist and photography: Around the Bend. His poetry collections Time is Not a River, Morning Calm, and A Matter of Timing are all available on Amazon. A new chapbook, Jack Pays a Visit, has just been released. For more information: https://michaelminassian.com
 

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...