Billy Parker

Watching the video,
rewinding to
the point of impact

I think how
this must be the
most horribly grim
thing I’ve done.
But I don’t realise it
at all.

I rise up from the
end of the bed and
the springs gently
bounce up.

I offer wine,
she accepts.

I come back
with the bottle
and two glasses
and she puts it back
on play.

I was the civilian
whom she hit.
She almost did time
for DUI. But now we’re

in a cheap hotel with a
flickered lightbulb.

She’s looking on attentive as I
examine it-
for the third time.

I pour the wine and drink
with no thought for anything.



David McLean
we are murderous trees

we are trees
trying to touch the innocent sky
with innocently clawing fingers
and be light

forgetting too lightly
the twisted roots
drawing life and night
from the rotten meat
of our brothers
of whom we

heaven over our heads
at our




we are gryllos grinning
from the fat stomach of nothing,
we are the empty mouth
gaping from time’s
tremendous paunch,
and our flabby answers
tell us nothing –
a stomach and
naked appetite
never listen



Greg Oguss
para mi panocha pestosa

I met my love under the cherry tree
Where I got her to go down on me
Well we got high and we got tight
When I fucked that girl, she saw the stars that night

3 thoughts on “#18

  1. Boorish, juvenile and not worthy of your publication. Not even remotely literary, it’s surprising to see this here in the middle of some well written pieces.

  2. The piece is actually quite romantic. I’ve read many gothic novels that illustrate these sentiments…perhaps not so in your face, but you get the same effect.

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