Thursday, February 28, 2019


these chicken wings don’t run

the back
of the waiter’s t-shirt
has a tattered american flag on it
and it says

if you love america
you’ll love this bar

but if i’m sitting in here
then surely the two ideas can’t be intertwined

i don’t love america

to tell the truth
i don’t really like this bar

with its american flags everywhere
and its corny fallen military hero motif

ten television sets
half of them set to espn
the other half set to fox news

and every table and bar stool
full of doughy white dudes
dressed like they’re off to the big game
or set for a nazi rally

no, i don’t like this place
but i love their buffalo wings

and i'm so hungry
for all i care
the waiter could be wearing a t-shirt
with uncle sam's
sinister, stupid, tired-ass glaring
back at me

one menacing, geriatric finger
painted electric orange and dripping goodness

pointing at me
as if to say

listen, you commie wimp
these here chicken wings

they sure as shit
don’t fucking run
which means
i can fake being a patriot
at least until my belly is filled

and i could swallow lady liberty whole
if she came waltzing on in here
dressed only in hot sauce.

--John Grochalski 

Wednesday, February 27, 2019



or what about these men who
suck christ’s cock
while raping teenage girls?

what about the sycophants and
parasites who choose to
give them power?

one word of truth and
the revolution begins

--John Sweet

Tuesday, February 26, 2019


Small Town Romance

You could almost weep for the bankrupt bartender,
but watching his hands for a sign of mercy
is the very definition of a wasted day. Over the
entrance they've hung a sign that insists you go away.
Habit is the law of the land. Pride and prurience
are rewarded, just as empathy is openly despised.
They'll piss on you just as soon as leave you dead
translates the Latin on our family crest. Get out
the shovel there's another truth we need to bury.
That old couple shares the window table every day
about this time, the blood softly clanking around
their gray bodies. He worked a double as often as he could
and she did the same. So went youth and dreams.
The streets are crumbling and our chief exports are cancer
and cruelty. Lately we've all gone unlisted in the phone
directory. Blank pages like a thing a ghost would write.

--Kristofer Collins

Monday, February 25, 2019


Censorship Stupidity

I have just tried to view a website
To see one of my poems
But I'm told that I can't, unless
I can verify my age with a credit card
I do not own a credit card, so I
Cannot see a poem, that I fucking wrote
Because I can't prove that I am
Over 18, the only alternative is
To send a copy of my driver's
License, well guess what ?
I don't own a fucking driving
License, either !
What kind of pathetic bullshit
Is this ?
I only want to read a poem that
I wrote myself. I am not asking
To see porn, or instructions on
How to make a bomb.
Just words, that's all.
But words can be the most
Dangerous  things to the
Status quo, if they're used

--Ian Copestick 

Sunday, February 24, 2019


Kindergartener Cops a Plea

I never really got the book entitled -
All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten’*
Until I saw our current Commander-in-Chief
Paint the World’s rooms with
Pee pee and poo poo
And say look at me
I’m a big boy in big boy pants.
We’re all so proud.

--John Stickney

Saturday, February 23, 2019


Eau de trump

seven bottles, each containing one of seven different cat farts
(courtesy of my clan: theo, fern, lola, beans, mimi, schmoopy, and vinnie vin)

that acrid smell of

the sewer smell that fills
the car
whenever we drive through Sewickley
near the burger king

an expressed anal gland
of a tom cat

fresh bird shit

and evergreen

--Heidi Blakeslee

Friday, February 22, 2019


Duck and Cover
it was stupid
as if it could
save us
a placebo
of hope
in a
time of fear
and now the door
of nuclear threat
has opened again
and we have nothing
to save us from
the game of fools
except the shelter of words
duck and cover
duck and cover
duck and cover
--Thomas R. Thomas

Thursday, February 21, 2019


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



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