Poetry VI.VII
“Bathroom Bliss,” by Paul Giles
Bachelor Bisazza should not spend a penny on fixing his Disturbed Mother with grisly treatments: just one $500 Freedom voucher would clean her up for days. Look how she whips this poor boy of hers up to a level of apathy so bad he is committed. His mother is the first step to happiness in [...]
“Cousin Paul and Mr. T,” by Joelle Renstrom
Cousin Paul has his spleen out. He gets transfusions as often as I get pistachio milkshakes. Every Christmas, he comes poorer and sicker and angrier. The rivers of veins swell close to the surface, especially near his right temple. His nostrils are permanently flared. I don’t know if these are symptoms. Every Christmas he’s a [...]
Two Poems by Michael Estabrook
“I love football, fuck you.” “I love football, fuck you,” my wife barks at me simply for making a humorous, although disparaging, remark about her silly Patriots Football Team. Beginning to wonder if perhaps her focus, allegiance, and obvious attraction to these youthful macho hunks is something I should be concerned about. . Way back [...]
“Old Bird,” by Stephen Jarrell Williams
Time for me to fly from your gargantuan claws nest heavy in your squat tits like mountaintops sagging from overuse wrinkled neck rings numbering your years once a beauty displaying to the gods naked dance lines into the woods now… you’re just shit-faced featherless and bald. ————- Stephen Jarrell Williams was born in Virginia, his [...]
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