Month: September 2013

2 poems by Joseph James Cawein

A perfect

evening in july
with the sky all purple
and the bats swooping low
over my head
and little flames dancing
through the humid air,
but my mind can’t
leave Bukowski
and the drudgery of my 5 a.m. job
and how my friend’s the kinda guy
who pisses with the door closed
and the fan on
like it’s some kinda dark secret
that he’s pissin’ in a bowl
– a family sits in their garage
drinking warm cans of beer
& inhaling life’s wonderful poison,
the man shouts
because i love you you stupid cunt!
and i hope against hope
that it’s true
 
The End
 
the man upstairs is always causing a ruckus
and disturbing my intoxication,
screaming
the end is nigh, repent!
but if the end were really nigh
i wouldn’t repent
i’d slit his throat
and calmly wait for my reward

3 poems by Jon Bennett

Watching Women Through the Donut Shop Window

I think about being alone

too long

and why I am and one

of the reasons

is chocolate old fashioneds

and one of the reasons must be

that I find any entertainment

in writing poetry in donut shops at 3 am

or 2 am

when the bars let out

and the women

walk on by

 

Old Doorways

I live at the top of a hill

that looks down

on the Financial District,

sterile steel and glass,

ugly the way words like

“iPad” and “Facebook” are ugly.

I don’t live in the Financial District, though.

I live in Chinatown.

It’s full of ancient doorways in hidden alleys.

The thing about old doorways is

they hold mystery

even if there’s no mystery

behind them.

Toilet Cleaner

“I clean toilets,” I tell her,

“but it’s not part of my job,

I do it by choice.”

She takes this very seriously,

it’s symbolic of my

general economic undernourishment.

She has read the writings of Buddha

1,000 times, a million books that say

“carry the water, chop the wood.”

She has taken the words

to the drycleaner,

had their meaning stripped and flattened.

I feel surrounded by “her” here,

surrounded, outgunned,

and outclassed.

Memorial Day by James Jackson

Thirsty Dog and Vanilla Scotchka

A victory for the men

Apple Jacks and cupcake toppings

Do you want to smoke?

 

I had to light the flame

so she could lean into me

I had to move her fingers

to where they needed to be.

 

 

You could stay down here

if you’d like

 

Bachelor’s Song by Donal Mahoney

When will you understand
it’s all about me.
The world we live in

whirls around my axis.
Once you understand
I am the Sun

we can get married.
Until that happens,
step aside while I

hunt for the one
who truly understands
it’s all about me,

the one who knows
the world we live in
whirls around my axis.

She must be pretty.
That’s how I see it.
Take it from me.

Ben John Smith’s PRAYING MANTIS [NSFW]

Finding God

from Praying Mantis, a new WISH Jog publication


She asked me
To meditate
In the bath
with her
All i
Could see was
Her boobs
and
because she
had her eyes
closed
in her search
for inner calm
i was able
to stare at her
beautiful
pussy
floating softly
underneath the
bubbles
of the water
I starting to sweat.
Getting a hard on
the tap is dripping
cold
drops
on my head.
i have a cramp
because im
on the tap side
of the bath
Oprah’s voice and
an Indian
Guy telling me
to find a center
to ignore every thing
else
around me.
find my center
My
Head sweating
in a splash
i get out of the bath
and leave her
to find god.
Later
that night
She sucks
My dick
And in
My pocket
my iphone
connects to
Siri
and Siri says
I don’t understand
what your trying to say.
We all continue
our search for
god
in
our
own ways.
i found him
in your center.