Poem
My Heart Is A Wiffle Ball Freedom Pole of Rumpleforeskin — for Kristen Stewart
Sharon Mesmer
My Heart Is A Wiffle Ball Freedom Pole of Rumpleforeskin
-- for Kristen Stewart
I reared your monkey penis sausage
You read my poetry at the nighttime elf race
Then scrawled neon squid across the horny thighs of ...
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Poem
Mayakovsky – New Translations
Jenny Wade
Маяковский в 1913 году
Я тебя в твоей не знала славе,
Помню только бурный твой рассвет,
Но, быть может, я сегодня впра...
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Poem
Time Now and Everything
Michael Randall
other nights I’ve heard it
just outside the window
fluttering in the dark, waiting
now I’m not convinced
the heart fails the spirit
sputters
all voices silent then choral music
on the radio quiet at first
b...
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Poem
The Good Shit & Presence: Rue Girardon
Pete Simonelli
The Good Shit
We were told the bubbles should look like little pebbles you could pour clean into your hand.
“Go on, shake it,”
said Peanut, junk dealer, mechanic, and feral-cat wrangler by day,
shiner by night.
�...
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Poem
Evil Polish Boners & Other Flarf Poems
Sharon Mesmer
Evil Polish Boners
I don’t know what it is about spandex suits for wrestling and rowing,
but they always seem to create the most evil Polish boners.
The Polish boner is a boner that the Polish boner team created
...
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Poem
The Hurricane
Ron Kolm
My Sister is a pastor
For a hospice
In New Jersey—
She’s part of a team
That drives up and down
The length of the state
Helping the dying die.
She spends her nights
In motels and keeps her files
In her car; her...
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Poem
John S. Hall at the Bowery Poetry Club
John S. Hall
April 30, 2012 (or thereabouts), Sensitive Skin celebrated the release of its 8th issue with a mondo reading at the Bowery Poetry Club. Essentially everybody who'd been in the magazine so far was invited, which was too many ...
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Notes from a Woman Soon to Be Divorced
Su Byron
DECEMBER
Endless South
I woke up and saw that it was winter. There were no birds, etc. Every piece of clothing inside my house was clean. Thank God. I looked into the mirror and saw that my eye was bright and b...
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Two Poems
William Lessard
Paul Kelly
First time I saw you
you were riding
a stolen motorcycle
down the middle
of our baseball field,
the cops in hot pursuit.
Last time I saw you
...
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Some Poems
Les Bridges
Stuck on a Runway
Thunderheads loom over Dallas.
Stranded planes mill
like nervous, 100-ton cattle,
blood streaks across silver flanks.
185 strangers and I marinate
...
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Todd Colby—Eight Poems
Todd Colby
Peace & Good Order
Okay dear, whatever you can manage
will be propped up in a boat next to you
full of apologies and texts from some cabin
pumped with nitrous oxide next to the oce...
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Meaning of the Dance
Mark McCawley
Fortunately, not everyone has to experience the daily life of madness and insanity of a spouse with a severe mental illness. It's akin to watching a portrait you adore manifest into something you no longer know or even recog...
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The Stabbing Game
Sean Flaherty
They switched the time of day
but every day for one year,
Monday through Friday
we had seventh grade science
with Mr. Stern,
after school,
Neil Brown and I
would tear over to Friendly’s or
Burger King
in his mom’s Camar...
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Subway Pome #57: Most Girls Wear Too Much Makeup
Sean Flaherty
“Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don’t need no other lover” – from Something by George Harrison
Around eight
Saturday morning
the chilly wet October fog
makes it feel earlier than it is,
the bus depot
...
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NEW
Dong of the Dead
Jose Padua
The name of this poem is Dong of the Dead.
It is my attempt to cash in quickly
on the literary zombie craze by
writing the first literary zombie
porn novel in verse. I am writing it
while sitting in the back of a pickup
...
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