Jonathan Shaw

Jonathan Shaw is a world-traveling outlaw artist, novelist, anti-folk hero and underground philosopher, writing in the literary tradition of Celine, Bukowski, Henry Miller and The Beats. Once widely-known as a legendary tatt...

The Editors

Here's the complete list of all the pieces from our 13th issue, along with the back cover, a collage of mugshots from the collection of Mark Michaelson, submitted for your perusal. If you'd like to support us, please purchas...

Jonathan Shaw

I was seeing double with fatigue. But Narcisa was just getting started. She hopped along, from subject to subject, like a cocaine-crazed, hyperactive little fairy, flittering between realms of thought I could barely fatho...

Jonathan Shaw

Mexico– A song of the Caribbean fading and a rusted burned out car shell laying under the sun in a lot of weeds behind the house. A fly buzzing around my head but too lazy to bother me much. A fly will meet his spid...

Jonathan Shaw

2AM Saturday night, Buenos Aires. Lost in a rancid late night whirlwind of saggy asses and rock hard smiles, my friends upstairs shaking up the night, the tired parade is running out of fun. Tired of the sad old games an...

Jonathan Shaw

Went to the Gold Bar with the gringo but he wasn't feeling it. No speeky spany. I spotted my little firework girl from Saturday night among the blinking Christmas lights and tacky plastic decorations. We were about to go ...

Jonathan Shaw

Journal Entry, Buenos Aires. The innocence of the lambs, the shattered glass in voices, the screams of anger and dizzy despair behind the words. Dragons and demons behind the terror and joy, the hot dog goes down, spirit...

Jonathan Shaw

I saw a dead kid laying in the road tonight, right down the street from the biker clubhouse as I rode out of the Vila. It felt like a bad night there, overcrowded with so many skinny undernourished, faceless ghetto boys m...

Jonathan Shaw

Sitting in a yellow corner in the last whorehouse alley on the outskirts of Vila Mimosa waiting for my little blond with the bullet hole under her armpit and ghosts at her back. She told me to meet her here and she appears a...

Jonathan Shaw

Rock bottom in America. Sitting in a third-rate L.A. titty bar on a rainy winter night a few days before this Christmas of the Apocalypse. "What the fuck in Jesus's underwear am I doing in this wretched hell pit, sitti...