Michele McDannold

Author's posts

a minor writer by Kurt Nimmo

a minor writer if you want to be a famous writer you kill somebody, he said, and then write a fucking opus in prison. he lit a cigarette, blew smoke into the air, and continued. or kidnap the mayor’s daughter. I can see that working, I can see the headlines emblazoned in gold and outlined …

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THE POLISH HAMMER POETRY CORNER: The Ballad of Extended Adolescence by Karl Koweski

The Polish Hammer Poetry Corner The Ballad of Extended Adolescence Twenty miles away from where I’m sitting right now writing this column, my twenty-two-year-old son is sitting in a rented house staring at a computer screen of his own. He’s not writing a column or working on a novel that’s only going to fizzle out …

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3 poems by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

I Am Luis I am Luis. I am not an alien. I came from Mexico. I am Cuauhtémoc too. I was born in the 60’s. I speak Spanish. I speak English too. Why am I condemned? You cannot conquest me. I remember the place where I came from, my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles, and …

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Resistance by Mimi German

Resistance how much you resist is how much you are alive say the women of rojava there the women ground the moon men fold into the kitchen their mothers protectors of the village where power is neither beholden or given in the commune of my mind i live with them fighting but reality barges in …

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Naked Wishes by Westley Heine

Naked Wishes You started as a reflection in the mirror behind the bar. After you sang you came down, sat, and we made eye contact. Gave you mouth to mouth outside where the smokers stand. The cab window a shaky Polaroid with grins and telepathy. Suddenly awake in your walk-up cozy pillow laden lady lair. …

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2 poems by Nathan Graziano

That Big D Mentality “I love my dick,” says the young man sitting with his friend at the bar. They’re both good-looking guys who work for the city’s sanitation department; the bearded kid drives the garbage truck, and the kid who loves his dick, fit and tanned, rides the back, collecting the cans. “I just …

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Poems & Art by Bree

And They March people are hurting. they are lured or hurled from their blond carpeted living rooms into dark cellars made to eat cold slop from a wet bucket with their dirty hands, and our govt’s solution is to take back half of that cold slop to use as compost in their fourth houses’ second …

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2 poems by Ainne “Ayn” Frances dela Cruz

Mice The poet of beauty sees mice at the table so white, and frail, red-eyed, glowing how frequently through opium eyes, I see only what is on the other side of me. That wall, so dark and dank and locked with moats, only mice can get through. What wall, what mice What eyes gets through …

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THE POLISH HAMMER POETRY CORNER: The Polish Hammer Strikes Again by Karl Koweski

The Polish Hammer Poetry Corner The Polish Hammer Strikes Again I’ve been doing this for a long time. Writing, that is, with the intention of allowing any number of unknown people to judge me by the bullshit I put down on paper. I started getting my poetry and stories published in the early nineties, right …

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3 poems by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

The Menace The menace is 26 oz. of smoke at birth. The menace is caged hatreds boiling. The menace is the tips of rattlesnake warnings. The menace is fallen comets dipped in paint. The menace is ugly sex faces in scream. The menace is voodoo bones for dice. The menace is comradery losing the kiddie …

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