Thursday, February 21, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and SIXTY THREE


dear donald,

i woke up the other day
wondering what it was like
to wake up and be you
to be the most hated man in the world
let me clarify though…i didn’t wake up thinking this
after seven hundred and some days
i try to give you as little head space as possible
i think i thought this maybe after my third double vodka
i was bored and went on twitter
and read a bunch of your stupid tweets
as if i were reading the lost works of basho
and with every mendacious word it got me wondering
what is it like to be you?
isolated in the white house
nothing but cold hamburgers and fox news to keep you company
millions of people hating the very sight of you
having to lie about the numbers who don’t
having to lie about your poll numbers and dick size
always the biggest idiot in the room
can’t trust anyone, not even your little traitor-tot sons
knowing that your administration has more leaks
that some of your shitty real estate
what does that feel like donald?
to be the scourge of the world
to have your name brought up with hitler in casual conversation
or that there will be oscar-party sized celebrations
when you’re finally carted off to jail?
i know i’ll be dancing in the streets
what does it feel like to stand in front of that morning mirror?
your bloated belly and orange hue looking back at you
your wife’s hateful eyes glaring back
the way she must freeze when you try and touch her
putin breathing down your neck
selling out your country to pay a life debt
having to pay off celebrity hacks to join you in golf
making up national emergencies to save face
all those years of being the kingpin of your own delusions… gone
all that free pussy you’d never get without that name…gone
knowing that you’ll never again have a moment of peace
for what?
to play plastic dictator?
to throw a tantrum on the world stage?
was it all worth it?
donald…it doesn’t even look like you like the job.        

--John Grochalski                                

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and SIXTY TWO


Spidey

I am here in DC
to meet with Spider-Man.
There is a rogue lawman
trying to take everything he can.

Peter Parker needs to put
on his suit and spin his
web to get justice for
all. I know who the bad guy is.

He lives in the biggest
white house on the whole block.
Spidey, do not let him
get away with it like everybody else.

Do not take a bribe or
fall for his weapon of
lies. Shoot your web and wrap
him up and take him to the big house.

--Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and SIXTY ONE


From The Sublime....

Watching on T.V.
Safely in England
It seems like the U.S.A.
The land of the free and
The home of the brave.
Has gone completely
Insane. Hundreds of
Thousands of people
Working for the U.S.
Government are not
Getting paid, despite the
Fact that they are doing
Their jobs. The pantomime
Villain of a president is
Holding the country to
Ransom, because he
Wants to build a wall.
I don't know if he has
Read any history books, 
But we had a wall in
Europe, about 30 years
Ago. That really didn't
Help matters either. It
Worries me, what is
Going to happen. To us
Outsiders, to go from
Barack Obama to Donald
Fucking Trump, talk about
Going from the sublime
To the ridiculous. The
U.S.A. would be the
Laughing stock of the
World, if it wasn't so
Buttock- clenchingly
Terrifying.

--Ian Copestick

Monday, February 18, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and SIXTY


                                Art by Red Focks

Sunday, February 17, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and FIFTY NINE


men standing outside the catch-22 bar

the boozy semi-circle
of bud light vapor

i know it too well

and obviously they aren’t discussing socrates
or china’s roll in southeast asian policy tonight

they’ve got tits and ass and violence
on their minds as always

whose ass it is they’ve got to hit or kick

from their shambling silhouettes
against the streetlights
i know that i’ve pushed down
pints of the green poison with some of them

back at a bar the nyc health board
had the good sense to close years ago

but it’s good to see people
keeping up with their hobbies in a new space

there is a sense of satisfaction
in the sameness of a city night

to tell the truth
i don’t frequent bars too much these days

i never really fit in when i did
with my college degree and steady pay

as if the desire to self-medicate
to the point of delirium
was an economic situation alone

it took those guys months
before they’d talk to me

and then it was about shit i didn’t care about

the NFL or cop shows
whose wife was ragging on who
or that muslim, foreign born president we had

in hindsight i missed the silence

which is why
i probably stopped going there
and started drinking at home

still i’m curious to see
what would happen if i walked in there now?

declared ain’t nostalgia grand!
caught the tailwind of the whisky they’d chugged
and followed those boozehounds back inside

found myself a seat in the corner
graced the confines of the catch-22 with my presence

would there be a sense of recognition?
a waltz of déjà vu?
a little of the old ultra-violence?

some hot tuna or the dead on the juke?
fox news out of every cattycorner?

or would it be a sodden fitzgerald type
sitting there telling me i told you so old sport

nothing but the wreck
of reflections in the barroom mirror

everyone and anyone
waiting on their deaths

or for the ghost joseph heller
to come strolling in.

                                               
--John Grochalski

Saturday, February 16, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and FIFTY EIGHT


Used to think
pain of leaving
be worse
than staying
complications
gotta have patience
oh, what can I say
what can I say
what should I say
to you.
Gotta have patience
so many tears
left to cry
loan me some
patience
a moment of your time
feeling like
dog on a line
and you just kicking
me in the side.

You're holding me
a bit too tight
feel you choking me
all through the night
just let me go
just set me free
oh baby,
cut my goddamn leash.

What can I say
what should I say
what do I have to say
to make you hear
my screams.

Gotta have patience
so many tears
left to cry
loan me some
patience
and a moment of your time
feeling like
dog on a line
and you just kicking
me in the side.

Your hold on me
just too tight
feel you choking me
all through the night
just let me go
just set me free
oh baby...
cut this goddamn leash.

--Cristina Kennington

Friday, February 15, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and FIFTY SEVEN


in the empire of ashes


let us be true to one another
as we set fire to the castle

let us turn our backs on the
screams of false gods
and self-appointed kings

they are nothing in the end
but whatever bad dreams
we forget upon awakening

--John Sweet