Even Meat Can Pray. by Mendes Biondo

it was a press conference
and it was boring
an event about numbers
about poor people
and immigrants
they spoke about numbers
while real lives were starving

behind me a nun
white pure rough dress
a huge pair of mustaches
and a grumpy face
the spanish inquisition in her eyes

I looked at my smart phone
it rang silently

just to let you know I masturbated myself right now
while thinking to you and me having sex
    a message from my woman came in like a cannon shot

the nun behind me seen it
she saw also the wallpaper of my smartphone
a work of art made by a friend of mine
a pair of giant tits swinging happily
the same pair of happy tits the nun never had

I felt her shame on my shoulders
on the back of my head
on my bones
even the air was shaming me for that happiness

at the end of the press conference
her eyes met mine

you're disgusting

she told me with her body

it's my way to pray

I said with my smiling grin

Mendes Biondo is an Italian journalist and author. His works appeared on Visual Verse, I Am Not A Silent Poet, Literary Yard, Angela Topping Hygge Feature,  Indigent A La Carte, The BeZine, Scrittura Magazine, The Song Is, Poetry Pasta and other magazines. He is one of the editors of The Ramingo's Porch along with Marc Pietrzykowski and Catfish McDaris. His first book of poems will be published soon by Pski's Porch Publishing

The Burden Of Wearing The Mask . by Leatherface

         

You know sometimes it's really hard to meet ladies when they have some preconceived notion of who you are .

I mean sure I have skinned a few and wore there flesh as a mask .
But that was in the seventies .

I mean look at how advanced cosmetic surgery has come along.
If anything I was ahead of the curb.

Now all I truly want is to share my life with another .
I mean I have so much to give .

Sure are there dead bodies in the basement of course .
Duh like I'm going to eat hamburger these days .

And those people shouldn't have trespassed upon my backwoods mansion .

There are skulls and shit hanging from the rafters what do I need to do post a fucking sign?

"Creepy chainsaw wielding cannibal freak lives here please fuck off "!

But no they just never learn .

But sometimes when I'm chasing some half naked hottie through the woods underneath a fool moon well.

Sometimes I just want to turn it off and cry cause it hurts me deep in that place where shit hurts .

I think look you scream queen let's just stop this game .
Lets just go back to my place crack a chilled bottle of wine .

Put on some relaxing death metal like Britney Spears on .

Snuggle up on my new sofa made of human flesh and just get lost in one another .

Cause behind this persona of psychotic killer there is a man who is a true romantic.

Sure I bathe in human blood why else do you think my skin looks so good ?


I mean sure I'm a killing machine but im just driven to be the best at my profession.

I mean what has that freak Freddy Krueger done lately?


Yeah I just want to be loved .
Is that so much to ask?

Okay and maybe just wear your face over mine but let's not rush things just yet .

We will take it slow.

Cause I am a true romantic .

We all deserve to be loved .

Leatherface

Is beloved American serial killing icon and tortured soul and hopeless romantic .

When not stalking teens on his property he enjoys watching romance films on Netflix .

He is currently looking for that special someone to share his life .

He also the official cook for all UTB cookouts .

If interested in a date please contact the Frat and we will be happy to make that love connection.

UTB we are all about helping people meet that certain someone .

The Greatest (Still Hot) Generation. By Scott Simmons Aka Shithead

I think that children need to play Marco Polo with guns more often.

Instead of worrying about their twitter feed on Pornhub edu.  

The youth have forgotten about how to really enjoy being in the great indoors.

Where you had to find your own snack machine for food.

Hell they don’t even know how to scavenge their surroundings for hot pockets.

It’s just plain obvious that any generation after mine is just complete shit.

After all Edgar Allen Poe was a millennial too.

Long story short it’s all going straight down hill from here. 

              Scott SImmons Aka Shithead


Is a true renaissance man who in the summer often enjoys acting in Shakespeare in the park .

He is also the youngest member of the Frat and why yes ladies he is single .

When not living the playboy lifestyle of the youngest Ezine editor , Scott can often be found trapped in his room alone and crying watching reruns of As The World Turns .

His publications include.

Ladies Home Journal , Esquire Magazine , Senior Living , The Wall Street Journal ,Maxim, The It Doesn't Look Like Me Qaurterly , Medusas Kitchen, The Rye Whiskey Review , Penthouse, Tiger Beat Magazine .


Scott Simmons is also now excepting full length manuscript submissions for the Dope Fiend Dailys new press .

Once is proud to announce it has now become a paying publication .

The Plan. by Ezhno Martin

I remember

when I got married

in a shark costume

with face paint like a professional wrestler

for the sake of being strange

that I was kinda sad

because I'd never have a normal wedding

with all the trappings and ceremony and circumstance

every one is conditioned to believe

is necessary to make a

best day of their lives

but that marriage ended

thank god

and I got this second chance

at normalcy

and making momma proud

maybe...

right?

but i'll tell you

that the happiest days of my life

sure haven't been culminations

so much as first surrenders

not victories

but revelations

it's never been about

celebrating how

the women I've been in love with

has suddenly changed her mind

so much as

suddenly I've changed my mind

about who I'm in love with

when I take them home for the first time

and realize I'll always have memories

of them in the place I go to hide from the world

when they start staying there most nights

when they become the place I go to hide from the world

the best days are when the crushing defeat

of a broken relationship

turns into the warmth and safety

in the weight of a new lover on top of me

where I realize the mutual obsession is real

and horribly fragile

fatalistic

and fleeting

If I ever have a normal wedding

I want it to be with someone I don't love

maybe don't even know

so my memories of that wedding

won't be ruined

by the realities of a marriage slowly crumbling

from promises too big

to keep

or conclusions

we were forced to come to

when the bills came

or the results arrived in the mail

when the phone rang

and what we'd been waiting for

all along just killing time

sent us running

to where we'd wanted to be

since we knew where it was

If I get married again

I'd want it to be

to the girl that kissed me in Spain

when I was 15

She was from Ireland

a little older than me

and I never saw her again

after my mother caught us

desperate teenage virgins

who happened to speak the same language

on vacation in a foreign country

dry-humping each other

in an ally we ended up in together

by dumb luck

Ezhno Martin doesn't believe in god, pronouns, american exceptionalism, most conventions of capitalization, monogamy, any form of censorship, that 9/11 was real, casseroles, coming to a full stop at stop signs, chivalry, patriotism, hand washing after bathroom visits, rough sex, decorum, the importance of biological families, and/or that The New York Knick's are ever going to get their shit together.  Ezhno lives in Toledo, Ohio.  Ezhno is now from Toledo, Ohio, because that's how that works.  You can't misgender Ezhno, because Ezhno doesn't believe in genders, pronouns, safe spaces or any of that social-justice-warrior-rich-kid-with-a-complex bullshit.   Just say “nice ass” if you're feeling nervous or confused about the fact that the 6'2” Adonis that is Ezhno hates your counter culture just as much as the culture it opposes.

He Laughs At Mischief And Death. by J.J. Campbell

there's

a little

miscreant

inside

me

he laughs

at mischief

and death

he particularly

likes to come

out in hospitals

and at funerals

it makes it easier

for people to

understand why

others call me

crazy

J.J. Campbell (1976 - soon) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Fourth and Sycamore, Pyrokinection, Dodging the Rain, Midnight Lane Boutique and Rusty Truck. His most recent chapbook, the taste of blood on christmas morning, was recently published by Analog Submission Press. You can find him most days waxing poetic on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (http://evildelights.blogspot.com)

Don't Drink There Sugar Water ! by Tom Bagger

It is well known that sodas are unhealthy but the lesser-known danger is the mind control that is orchestrated by the umbrella man and the grays on their unwitting consumers. Although alien existence has been clear forever and can be seen on television shows like the Ed Sullivan show their motivations are often hard to read. However through research it is quite obvious that they want humanity to be in a constant orgy in order for all of the slapping of balls in the world to crack the electromagnetic sound barrier to their planet for an all out invasion. These illegal aliens from mars bought The Mythic Dawn (Now the Fanta Corporation) back in 20 A.D. from ancient Canadians in an attempt to infiltrate their elite members of society into the government. These traitors have also invested into Viagra chem trails for centuries and in more recent they have put aluminum/Uranusrium into the world’s soda supply. Only the vitamins of Male T can help protect you from this mind control and prevent you from enjoying the evils of all sex. Although there are many other shady UTB (a.k.a the C.I.A.) plots involving cheese, crack, and the pretty Sunday dresses that I like to wear but for my own safety this is all I can release for now. 

So Goodnight you beautiful people,

 The Unknown Poet.

Tom "Double" Bagger

Is a deeply mentally disturbed man who also is a Wings Stop enthusiast .

When not studying new conspiracy theories  he enjoys baking and watching the view while listening to John Tesh. 

He is always stirring shit at the frat and often trying to stop what he views as a CIA financed cult much like Nickelback .

The Unknown poet does bare a striking resemblance to a well known poet .

Once has led to the rumors he is actually Kanye West or John Travolta .

He is clearly out of his mind and off his meds.

There is also no truth that UTB has put a bounty out upon his head .

UTB is your friend .

UTB loves and only wants to protect you.

UTB will help you .

UTB is in no way a cult .

Tom Braggers publications include .

Asylum Press, I Pee Freely Qaurterly , The Old Perve In The Park Review , You Porn , Beaver Hunt , Poetry Magazine , Mental Health Monthly ,

Horror Sleaze Trash , It Doesn't Look Like Me Monthly ,.

And Pee Wee's Playhouse .

Avoid Tom At All Costs .

And remember UTB is you're Friend .

￦θΩ¤|§ฯ

📹

Who’s On First. by James Babbs

I told her

I didn’t usually buy drinks

for attractive women

but for her

I was willing to make an exception

she laughed

and told me thank you

she said

I don’t usually take drinks

from strange men

well I said

my name’s Jim

what’s yours?

Tamara she said

I said oh

you don’t want to tell me today

Tamara she said again

I said okay

I can wait

my name’s Tamara she said

louder than before

she flashed me a look

then I saw the light come on

and I liked the way

it sparkled in her eyes

oh she said

I get it now

you’re funny

and she sipped her drink

yeah I said

but looks aren’t everything

oh no she said

but she laughed anyway

it wasn’t the first time

I’d used that line

and I knew

it probably wouldn’t be the last

James Babbs likes the night life but he doesn’t like to boogie.  James has written hundreds of poems and a few short stories over the years and has even had a few of them published.  If you happen to visit the internet you may find something he has written.

"Fluffy Bunny of the Apocalypse" by Hex'm J'ai

Cast of hollow
Plaster
This statue of
Aphrodite

White acrylic
Cracking and peeling
Trying to escape
Her
Gaze
Like that bird
Trembling
Upon her
Hand

The
Craftsmanship
Is shoddy
A giant potato
Standing
Stately
Like some
Dolmen
But minus all
Majesty

You got everything
Except the
Point
A cheap talisman
A cheap prop
To validate
A shrinking
Universe

She reminds me of
You.

Hex'm J'ai has been crafting works poetic from an early age.  His first publication came when he was aged 14 in a local paper.  Since that moment he has created at least 4 chap books, and has performed at various open mics in the NY capital region, dabbles in photography, visual media and has been coaxed to play with noize on occasion.

Hex'm J'ai was born North of where you're sitting/standing.

Hex'm J'ai enjoys hiking, heckling, films, various forms of debauchery, new and interesting mistakes and all things occultie marvelous.

He currently resides on the USS Vinland which is in orbit somewhere over Schenectady NY.

End Transmission.

Old Jim. by R.M. Engelhardt

Years ago

I heard

Old Jim

Harrison

Read at 

The college

A sinner

Among

The saints

The kids

Had most 

Likely only

Seen Legends

Of The Fall

With Brad Pitt

As the romantic

 Lead 

Jim

Told old

Stories

Some of

The kids

Laughed

But had

No idea

What the hell

He was talking

About  & Jim

Seemed

A bit

Distracted

He read

A poem

And then

Suddenly

Stopped

In mid 

Pause

Looked

Around 

The room

And said

Intermission!

I need a fuckin smoke

Yer all welcome

To join me

So I did

Jim forgot

His lighter

And so I 

Lit up his

Cigarette

With my

Zippo

And he nodded

His head

Looked at me

And said

You're a writer

Aren't you?

I nodded back

He smiled

And that

Was all the

Inspiration

I ever needed

Talon (R.M. Engelhardt) is a poet/author minister who over the last 20 years has been published in such journals as Thunder Sandwich, Full of Crow, Rusty Truck, Writers’ Resist, Dry Land Lit, Rye Whiskey Review, Hobo Camp Review & many others. He currently lives & writes in upstate NY where he hosts a monthly open mic called “The Troy Poetry Mission”

http://www.rmengelhardt.com

Left For Dead. by Eliana Vanessa

once my ex boyfriend
got tired of the coffin
stored in our part-studio garage,
so he put it out on the curb.

the very next day,
our neighbor passed away.

observing from a window
that the coffin was being moved
closer to the end of their driveway,
we gasped in awe and felt honored.

that night,
the coffin rested;

however, the following morning,
it was back on our curb,
as the family had unanimously
decided they didn’t like the artwork on it.

all we could do
was smile politely
and awkwardly agree,
expressing our sincere condolences.

Eliana  Vanessa is originally from Buenos Aires, Argentina and moved to New Orleans, Louisiana at a young age.  Eliana's poems have been selected for display via a community project called St Tammany Poetry on the Streets, and she recently participated in the Jane Austen Festival (2017 and 2018) as part of a panel of other selected poets.  Eliana attends several writing groups, including Poets Alive, Bayou Writers and Inklings in Mandeville, Louisiana.

Her work has been published at The Rye Whiskey Review, Cajun Mutt Press , The Horror Zine .

True Story. by Matt Amott

Everything turns up 

a notch

when we both arrive 

in the same city.

Marrow eaters,

sucking the life

until the keg is tapped 

and the band goes home.

Recklessly storming the streets,

He clears a path

through the heathens 

of Saturday night

and I linger 

a few feet behind

watching 

the mad one burn. 

Like Kerouac,

I am Sal 

to his Moriarty.

Reporting the antics

to the masses,

A drink in my one hand 

and camera in the other

because mere words

won't do.

There has to proof

of all these events 

or I will be labeled

a writer of fiction.

Matt Amott is a poet, musician and photographer who wanders around the Pacific Northwest. He is co-founder and co-editor of Six Ft. Swells Poetry Press and has been published in numerous collections as well as two books of his own, THE COAST IS CLEAR (Six Ft. Swells Press) and GET WELL SOON (Epic Rites Press).  He can be reached and purchases made at afterhourspoetry.com.