by John Rocco

 

On the asphalt flesh road

Northern Blvd.

Queens, baby, Queens

old Indian trail

the starving ghosts chase

used condoms and Taco Bell wrappers

anything for a taste of the lost time.

I’m on my way in the middle of the day

to go porn shopping

the cool colorful shelves

exciting and calming

but I can’t get there

because of the traffic suicides

Tanya Tucker on the radio

and the big white truck right

in front of me has painted on

its rear door in big red

white and blue:

THIS IS AMERICA!

LOVE IT OR

GET THE HELL OUT!

 

Succubus sunlight

explodes my windshield

cooking up

my brains

what’s left

but soon I’m

inside the porn store

cool and peaceful

shopping for guilt.

by John Rocco

 

Fritz Lang

monocle

and at least one big martini a day for life

told Hitler to go fuck himself

cast big boy Death in Der müde Tod with lots of candles

loved high-priced Hollywood call girls

invented high tech demonic city serial killer spy movies

the master criminal

Dr. Mabuse

King of Crime

Hypnotist of Modernity

and then there was little

Hans Beckert

child murderer who can’t help himself

based on the real

Vampire of Düsseldorf

who killed big wild swans in the park

drank their blood

gushers of deep blood

shooting from their necks.

by RC Miller

I’m choking on Chris Martin’s dick near my thymus.
It’s tattered with Amnesty International symbols.
St. Peter is hauling out newts.
The turkey and cheese ones are really wet.
I sit here tensed a stair cause I’d rather be alone,
Pounding away
South Jersey or somewhere pluses staple the clash below.
Around 11PM people finally change their drapes.
Too much much too soon, all that loose fabric
Opened wide.
The Mexican breakfast specials make my little mammal special.
And I always hear of a good
Industry or old age ahead.
But to be honest with you,
I don’t think I can wear pain to work.
Thing is,
There’s a numbness inscribed on every denouncement.

by Zach King-Smith

 

I stayed with a
woman who was
tough as a bed
of nails drunk.

When she’d
get drunk she’d
swing at me.

Take a swig
from the bottle
then swing.

I didn’t sleep
much at all
those few weeks.

One night
she swung at
me with everything
she had and hit me.

I told her to
get out the next
morning.

Some women are
lovely vicious things
and some men
take it like me.

I’ll never understand
those sleepless weeks.

I was a coward.