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Literary Punk

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‘Wish That You Were Mine’ by Maria Lebedev

Fingers soaked in margarita You control your raged libido And you always change your credo Trying to guide yourself   But you never seemed defenceless You believe in taking chances That time when I stood against you I fell under your spell   (Chorus) After all this time I hope you…

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‘Hollow Hole’ by Maria Lebedev

Now being good is really a drag You give and give, you get nothing back Now listen up; it’s my house, my rules! I ain’t gonna let you use my tools   (Chorus) I’m torn and trashed Lend out a hand and got crashed Ripped to pieces With a hollow…

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Nothing Tastes Good – Kat Lively

Nothing appeals to my palette Not Cigarettes, caffeine, not sleep. Howl at the moon in a black jacket, find the smile underneath. Numb as pavement, yesterdays IV from a virus, today’s discharge paperwork, saline stench. No more blood drawn in the night, Hospitals are today, yesterday, one day last. Dad…

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Fruitless by J. Michael Niotta

The blind shut their eyes in sleep & the parts of the ship that’s wrecked continue to float the masterpieces hang on all the wrong walls & homes condemned & abandoned continue to keep out the elements  the cockroach head sawed from the cockroach body still feeds & even the…

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Excerpts from “The Blood” By Gitane Demone

I was poverty-stricken haven’t eaten the fruits of my children I waited each day for the blood to return a wheat husk offered me shelter I stole its dry butterfly for a coat scuttling exoskeleton Leigh through the city of cockroaches my red-lipped volcano burning everything in sight   Beyond such…

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We’re so alive

If you know and you see what we, we samsara hate-realm surfers, see, and you can hear it too, over the din of signalled virtue, over crackling megaphones of “resistance”, dodging raised fists, trying to weather the storm with no eye, no peace, no love, no calm but beneath the seafoam,…

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From the timid to the fierce

For the ones who bypass and discard that which most people covet. For the ones that rise like wing and demons high above the street, high above the treeline and the rooftops, who congregate on top of telephone poles, and sneer at the setting sun, smoking filterless cigarettes. For those…