THE BALLAD OF SIDEREAL JOE. By ANDREW DARLINGTON

the kids in the street chant

‘where you bin today.
Sidereal Joe Sidereal Joe?
where you bin today. Sidereal Joe?’

OK, I admit it, I was drifting,
I slide clear off the edge of time
into that kinda mushy stuff,
what is it they call it? Sidereal space,
something like that, I wasn’t sure,
I woke up once and I wasn’t here,
I was in a place where the stars
are coins tossed by a madman,
on a beach that goes on forever
beneath a sky with sixteen moons
that honk out a beat on the air,
as if traveling to one moon ain’t enough
you think I’m romancing, I can tell,
I can tell by that leery expression,
Oh yeah, old Sidereal Joe
flipping a loop again,
but yes, I admit it,
I was only drifting,
happens all the time…

and the kids in the street chant
‘where you bin today.
Sidereal Joe Sidereal Joe?
where you bin today. Sidereal Joe?’

 

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE IS NO MATCH FOR NATURAL STUPIDITY!!!

Check out my website ‘EIGHT MILES HIGHER’ – ‘The Blogspot for People Who Don’t Like Blogspots’ – latest postings include… ‘Tales Of Wonder’ the full detailed story of Britain’s First-Ever SF magazine, ‘The Walking Dead: The First Nine Seasons’, ‘Mick Farren: Sex And Drugs, SF And Rock ‘n’ Roll (‘Mona’ and Phaid The Gambler)’, Sly Stone Meets Doris Day, plus music interviews The Secret Life Of Fiat Lux, Floy Joy… From Sheffield, Hula: Old World, New Machines, More Electric Shadows... and more… All with archive photos, and more… monthly updates at andrewdarlington.blogspot.com

  

HELEN’S HOUSE. By Bryn Fortey

Meeting with poets Bruce Hodder and Mark Carver

In Helen Verrill’s. house

A terraced house in Semilong, Northampton

A Bohemian house, once you went inside

Musical instruments here and there

Paintings on the walls

The accumulated clutter of an artistic soul

A place where Cassady might have rested

Following a long hard drive

Where Ginsberg might have chanted

And shook a tambourine 

While Kerouac would have wanted

To keep the party going

But that was then and now is now

And it was gentler souls

I was meeting today

With poetic talent the glue that bound

Sparking a sunny autumn evening

Of wonderful conversation

Confirming friendships that were now

More than just Facebook posts

So thank you, Helen

For welcoming us all into your home

It was a genuine delight

Bryn Fortey is a veteran writer from Wales in the UK. Widely published

over the years, he has had two collections published by The Alchemy 

Press, both featuring a mix of short stories and poetry. He is grateful that

in old age he is still able to put pen to paper and finger to keyboard

To Hot Men by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

She has been talking about Jim Morrison 

and how I used to look like him when I was younger,

but now it’s more like the new aqua man.

I laugh and say,

yeah, without any of the muscles.

We are back in the kitchen for a refill.

She asks whose turn it is to toast

and I tell her it is hers.

She thinks for a moment,

then raises her glass.

To hot men,

she says.

I clank her glass without thinking.

Wait…what? 

I say.

Oh my god, she laughs.

…that I married,

she adds on.

That doesn’t help me! 

I say.

I just toasted to hot men everywhere.

You can’t take a toast back.

She has to put her drink down.

She is laughing so hard her sides hurt.

I catwalk strut into the next room 

with my shorts down around my knees

to keep the good times going.

Our fake palm trees lit up like Christmas

in the corner.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a male gigolo for hire.  Presently residing along the sunny shores of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba where he spends his days drinking discount Tequila and accusing chemtrails of being "sky farts."  His work can be found both in print and online in such joints as: The Rye Whiskey Review, The Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry Network, Horror Sleaze Trash, and Under The Bleachers.

With My Head In The Clouds. By John Patrick Robbins

             

I really want to become the guy who runs the hot air balloon at the state fair .

So I can tell people I officially get paid to get high.

As it's tethered to the ground so it can truly go nowhere much like my writing .

But also so I can soar into that beautiful sky and be one with the heavens , and also look down women's shirts without them knowing it .

Much like a modern day God .

I really love boobies .

Whoever said I was going soft told you a lie unless they were speaking on my mental status .

Want to get high?

  John Patrick Robbins

Is the editor and chief of the Frat .
He enjoys binge drinking constant work and being driven insane by fellow writers .

He also worships the devil and runs the legion of doom.

His publications include .

The Yellow Pages , Ariel Chart , Hustler Magazine, Guns And Ammo , The Serial Killer Qurterly , Ladies Home Journal, The Rye Whiskey Review.


His work is always unfiltered

FUCK “NICE” by Brian Rihlmann

I’ve never touched the rim

and I never will

no matter how hard I try

no matter how high I jump

no matter how many coaches there are 

standing around to “encourage” me

you telling me

I should be nicer to people

nicer to YOU

is a lot like that

if all you want is nice

you’re not my tribe anyway

salesmen are “nice”

when they sell you a lemon

politicians are “nice”

they smile and crack jokes

as they sign laws

that’ll starve children 

bosses can be “nice”

as they kick your ass

out the door

and whores are always

so very “nice”

when they slip 

a little something 

in your drink

as their “manager”

waits in the hall

Brian Rihlmann was born in NJ, and currently lives in Reno, NV. He writes mostly semi autobiographical, confessional free verse, much of it on the so-called "grittier" side.  Folk poetry...for folks.  He has been published in Constellate Magazine, Poppy Road Review, and has an upcoming piece in The American Journal Of Poetry.

Menopausal Rocket Ships by Scott Simmons

I’m a polyamorous space robot cowboy from the year 2033.
So please insert your quarter into my ass and prepare for the ride.

We will go to Mars in a rusty pickup truck inside of a horny dolphin.
And we will invade the galaxy in search of alien booty!

Just unfold the balls on your stapled forehead and lick my elbows.
Honestly your a real sick son of a bitch but I still kind of like you.

ALSO WE WILL START A DRUG EMPIRE WITH OUR NEW AGED FILMS!
AND WE SHALL RECLAIM THE COCAINE FROM THE WESTSIDE RED MICRODICKS!

So set your phasers to blast buckeroo cuz we have a long trip ahead. ;)

Scott Simmons is a universally acclaimed asshole that graduated major in irreversible brain damage and a minor in public urination 101.  He also is on many watch lists and spends most of his free time plotting about how to get that damned cereal away from that rabbit after it gave him a dirty look in second grade 43 years ago. It is recommended by doctors that no human should read any of his work under any conditions without at least the influence of alcohol or drugs.

Tears in the Night by David Boski

She was a tall, beautiful,
eastern european stripper
and she took a liking to me
and I to her. we were of similar
age and I once took her to my
friends place as he left to go
drive his stripper girlfriend home
and we began making out before
she looked up at me and whispered:
“I think your friend is on the couch.”
sure enough, I turned and looked
and there was another one of our
friends sitting on the couch like a
fucking idiot, and although he
apologized I wasn’t happy at the
time. later I drove her home and
she invited me in and we started
making out again but were interrupted
by her baby crying. I went home
and I jerked off. a few months later
she was pregnant again by some drug
dealer who went by the alias “cash”
and I was grateful my friend sat on that
couch and that her baby cried tears in the
middle of the night, so I wouldn’t have to
for the rest of mine.

David Boski lives in Toronto. His poems have appeared in: The Rye Whiskey Review, The Dope Fiend Daily, Horror Sleaze Trash, Under The Bleachers, Down in the Dirt, Beatnik Cowboy, Winamop, Ramingo’s Porch, Cactifur, North Of Oxford and elsewhere. His chapbook “Fist Fighting and Fornication” is out now and available through Holy&intoxicated Publications.