Saturday, August 29, 2015

We feel backwards toward the animals

Even animals feel th' backward attraction to lesser
animals when they are hungry or just want to hunt.

Me and Bradley had the pause of nay a generation
to take a breath from the laws of nature for paper

jobs or test tubes in his case, restless for open air,
but no one, especially not a father, with the trade.

Even to ride or work a beast these days is tacky,
Though I still set them on scavengers in the yard.

Fourth Warning

even tho it started with rain n' hail
and the storm cover kinda langered
we got a fourth warning about fire

she'd written on her knuckle "EXT"
for extinguisher, put it on the calendar
then spent another day wet dreaming

a day or many days in shrouds've
pine cone incense n' flaming tortillas,
seizures of a fan deep in the tower

gave way t' television first responders,
a mistry fanger burn way after dinner,
n' all the stores are closed till morning

by Ted
"I remember, Peg"

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Reptily's Song

men are pigs
the body is disgusting
life is meaningless
there is no God
hell never ends

by Reptily

Monday, August 24, 2015

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Kang o the Thang

it's hard for a man to subordinate himself to a foreign culture
and it's hard to subordinate a man to your foreign culture

but if you feel alienated from the society, you might likely
try and subordinate everyone to the power of another thing

and that will have warped you into another level of being
and you rule alongside the super predators as a lieutenant

by Reptily

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Monday, August 17, 2015


They said I'd have to harden up going this way as if going any way wouldn't be hard though they weren't sure if I was human. My exostosis protects the vital joints and organs but not skin.

As I rise up like a row of corn, I'm lucky for a shaggy loam rebirth medium or granite decomposed. They tried an exorcist but he said it was just a physical deformity coupled with the supernatural.

Shab is always at my side, the dog with an empty saddle, glowing red eyes. He will drag me to the Monster Poinsettia in a square-wheeled barrow for a ritual enactment of the day it bit off my hands.

"Begging Raja"

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Could you help

could you help me to practice being fake
closing the drapes just now
like i do every night
seemed so final

is it true when you make a stop too late
it could be risky because
you can't get a cab

you should know by now i cannot
will the day or my fate

and that a ghost, to stay, must masquerade

"It's short for Illinois"

Monster bachelor

son breaks up through rocks of the ritual grave
he's here a calling, must morbidly stop
the coming to face, wall writing, other's gaze
there were seasons to make another pain layer
of hopscotch players, but this matter is nuclear
return as ant to work through failure as ant
strength to lift interlocked human structures
from their hooks and rafters, catatonia
but he wills upon himself the burden/ yoke
between the thrills and laughter of a singlehood.

by Hoolie
"I'm sorry, Donna."

Let them rot

brain has to figure his housing out
adapt to having a different face
every goddamn time, this puzzle,
definition, reason, holder, fence
is it who i am or what happened
go around asking ultimatums
that stir the pot; let them rot.
all there was to know was known
and forgot and cycled back around
and sold, and owned and sold.

"Think I might be low T."

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Nightmares Come True, But Not Dreams

As i'm sitting here thinking
about what i'm going thru,
and what it all means, i
ask God why the nightmares
come true, but not dreams?

When i reflect on you i see
a shadow, reft of both of us
on every side, ground falls
toward infinity, pure memory
where we are free floating.

Donna Thong-Cravenly
"I'm sorry, Mike."

Thursday, August 6, 2015

This is How it Turned Out

their bodies are built to eat bones
we can stand in wonder and worry

tight ear feeling while no sound
jaws create movement in canal

land stretches for thousands of
miles in every direction from here

by Donna Thong

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Fart box

constant strumming summer evening cloud strobe

from early morning, under plaited foam
no screeching cicadas nor shower bristle
only the light damping and constant
strumming summer evening cloud strobe

electricity seeking penetration where any
other weather aspect couldn't go, a home.
we three are swept up, by way of ion, or
waves of dread for coming winter, of day.