with no peaceful resolution in sight

by J.J. Campbell

trailer park

small white town
in ohio

a bullet goes
through a trailer

the police are
called

a deputy investigating
the complaint pulls out
her camera to take a
photo of a footprint

that deputy is
shot in the face

a shootout ensues
with her dead body
caught in the middle

another officer is
hit

swat is called

hours pass with
no peaceful resolution
in sight

gunfire erupts

all caught on
video

suspect is dead

either by his
own hand or
swat

no one really
cares at this
point

happy new year

Posted in J.J. Campbell | Leave a comment

Unattended

by Alan Catlin

after reading Jackie Sheeler

After my mother died
the city cop in Midtown
South Manhattan recognized
the writing on the evidence
envelope as his own,

recalled the unattended
death crosstown in
Martha Washington Hotel
for Women as one of those
not-so-routine cases you
weren’t likely to forget,

said, “That room she was in,
it might be a bit of a mess.”

Like someone might be a
“little bit pregnant”
or “Unresponsive at the scene,
maybe dead for days.”

What he should have said
was, “It’s a fucking horror story”
but even that would have been
a lie.

It was worse than that.

Ten times worse.

Posted in Alan Catlin | Leave a comment

Mostly Basie with a Little Bach

Whenever I see a new woman, I know
I should look at her hair and her eyes and her smile
before I decide if she’s worth the small talk
and the dinner later
and whatever else she may require
before she becomes taffy,
pliant and smiling.
But that never works for me.
Whenever I see a new woman,
what matters to me is never
her hair or her eyes or her smile;

what matters to me is her saunter
as I stroll behind her.
If her moon comes over the mountain
and loops in languor, left to right,
and then loops back again,
primed for another revolution, then
I introduce myself immediately
no matter where we are,
in the stairwell or on the street
and that’s when I see for the first time
her hair and her eyes and her smile
but they are never a distraction since
I’m lost in the music of her saunter.

Years ago, tall and loping Carol Ann
took a train to Chicago,
found a job and then one summer day
walked ahead of me on Michigan Avenue
while I surveyed her universe amid
the cabs screeching, horns beeping,
a driver’s middle finger rising.
Suddenly she turned and said hello
and we shook hands and I saw her smile
dart like a minnow and then disappear
as she frowned and asked
why was I walking behind her.

I told her I was on my way to the noon Mass
at Holy Name Cathedral and she was welcome
to come along. The sermon wouldn’t be much,
I said, but the coffee and bagels afterward
would be plentiful, enough to cover lunch.
And Jesus Christ Himself would be there.
She didn’t believe me, not at all,
and she hasn’t believed me since.

That was thirty years ago and now
her smile is still a minnow
darting here and there but now
it’s more important than her saunter
which is still a symphony,
mostly Basie with a little Bach.

And I no longer traipse Michigan Avenue
as I did years ago looking for new moons
swirling in my universe. Instead,
I take my lunch in a little bag
on a long train from the suburbs
and I marvel at one fact:
It’s been thirty years since I first heard
the music in her saunter
and Carol Ann and I are
still together, praise the Lord.
Who can believe it? Not I.
Carol Ann says she knew
the ending from the start.
Lord, Almighty. Fancy that.

by Donal Mahoney

Posted in Donal Mahoney | Leave a comment

new issue of Gutter Eloquence

http://www.guttereloquence.com/issue14/toc14.html

One of my fav zines, I finally found enough free time to check out the latest release!

–Ross Vassilev

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Anytime Mintues

by Lawrence Gladeview

ever wonder
who
everyone’s
calling
on their
cell phones?

suicide
prevention
hotline
please hold

[cue cute piano music]

please stay
on the line
your
crisis
is important
to us
and will be
answered
in the order
it was
received.

Posted in Lawrence Gladeview | Leave a comment

Deliverance

by Gary Beck

Puny dreamer of caravans
riding the subway
freighted
with mindless drools
dead, but seemingly sleeping,
rattle the paper every corpse
for stations
(time for motions of illusion)
come like ermine visions,
conductors soliloquy mumbled,
then
the Canal Street of the soul.

Posted in Gary Beck | Leave a comment

SAVE THE WORLD PART I

by RANDALL ROGERS

LOOKS LIKE
AMERIKA
HAS GONE TO
THE HYENEAS
OF MYTHICAL
SOCIAL CONTROL LEVELS AGAIN
MAYBE BELIEVING
JESUS
WAS HALF MAN
IS MORE THAN PART
OF THIS EQUATION
THAN NOT.

OR, BETTER YET,
OLE JESUS
WAS HALF WOMAN
OF COURSE!

SHIT. AMERICA, GOOD OLE
SOUTH DAKOTA
DEADWOOD
WILD BILL’S
STOMPING GROUNDS
WANTS ME

BUT LORD I CAN’T GO
BACK THERE
BECAUSE I’M SHY
OF YOU.

AND I VOCALLY
AND PHYSICALLY
EXPRESS IN
WORD DEED ACTION THOUGHT
THE WOVEN FIBRE
THAT GANJA USE
IN ALL ITS FORMS
(FOOD, FIBRE, OIL, PROTEIN,
HOUSING, MEDICINE, CLOTHING
AND FUN)
WILL LITERALLY
”SAVE THE WORLD”.

Posted in RANDALL ROGERS | Leave a comment