POOP THROUGH THE MAIL! by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

She tells me
that once we reach fifty
we have to poop on a stick.
What?, I say,
I’m not doing that.
You have to, she says,
they mail you these three cards
with accompanying sticks
and you reach down into the toilet
when you are done
and smear some poop on the stick first
and then smear that to each of the
three cards
then date it and mail it off.
To who?,
I demand.
To a testing lab, she says,
they test for all the big diseases
and for polyps or a bleeding
colon…
POOP THROUGH THE MAIL!,
I holler.
Yes, she laughs,
poop through the mail.
Then she tells me that blood
in your feces is called “Occult Blood”
which makes me think of satanic
sacrifice
and giant chalices of Jesus
juice.

 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.

The One Thing that Keeps Me from Having an Affair . . . by Ethan Goffman

is that it would violate everything I believe in
and bring great suffering to those I love
and shame upon myself.

Still James Bond
Bill Clinton and
others of their ilk
had a point.
Why not sleep with a thousand beautiful women
experience what they have to offer
learn the crannies and rhythms of their bodies
the musky smells
their moods and shifting dreams
the intimate details of their homes their jewelry
the deodorants and perfumes that infuse their skin
mingled with their sweet-and-sour sweat.

Why not
Learn the intimate histories of a thousand cultures
experience a thousand flavors
tarragon, wild mint, jalapeno, cardamom, ginger, salt and pepper
Kenyan, Salvadoran, Balinese, Inuit, Narnian
(Tiger Woods was boring,
blonde after blonde after blonde after blonde).

Why not
mingle intimately with all the world
and beyond.

Of course, I’m no Bond.
If I did attempt to stray
I would just humiliate myself.

Best to stick with the familiar and true
it takes a lifetime and more to know.

Ethan Goffman accidentally

became a poet by tagging along with his wife, the far more talented, harder

working, and prettier Marianne Szlyk, to poetry workshops.  He is still not sure how, but somehow his poems have

appeared in BlazeVox, Mad

Swirl, Madness Muse, Ramingo’s

Porch, and Setu.

$5 Cum Dumpster by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

Standing out by the back entrance to this bar

in the Soo

he checked his phone

until anyone tried to walk past:

pussy.

If anyone turned back,

he threw his arms out and yelled:

what?

Those with girls got it worse:

$5 cum dumpster.

But no one would take the Pepsi Challenge.

So that he went to a nearby public bathroom

along the esplanade

and pulled up all the toilets.

Punching out the mirrors

for their glass,

and then

some.

 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.

Only Skinvelope Deep by Scott Simmons

There are a few things I’ve learned in life.

The first is that microwave rays are just the devil’s way of touching your ding a ling.
Because idle hands are choking the chicken and churning the butter.

Secondly I exist in an alternative universe during the early 2000’s where in Japan methamphetamines grow inside oxygen masks on inflatable palm trees.

Finally auto-erotic affixation is cool and you should teach your kids how to do it too.
So why won’t you date me anymore?

Scott Simmons is a young girl from the Eli Young Band with hopes and dreams of summoning the Jonas brothers to join the cult that he started in his bedroom. His days in retirement are often spent jacking off to stranger's flip flops and The Andy Griffith Show.

Interview With Rich Flared

Question 1: Mr Rich Flared what do you think of Taylor Swaft holding the universal heavy weight poetry championship belt?

Answer:
First let me tell you kid I just got off a lear jet with two half naked flight attendants who wanted to experience the mule high club.

And after we landed they thought they been to Heaven Woo!

As far as little miss thing holding the gold.
She holding something ten times heavier last night.

And she was begging me not to leave this morning bit that's the way it is every morning.
Waking up looking at the nature boy Woo!

Now what's the next question.

Question 2: What can your fans expect during the next poetmania?

Answer:
Let me tell you me.and the four horsemen are going to ride into Houston.

Sipping Champagne hitting on wild women.
We are taking over.
Because gold and the Nature boy go hand in hand.


Question 3: Do you have any messages for your rivals?

Answer:
You can hate all day long.
But I'm the one men envy and the women want.

I'm the cock of the walk limousine riding jet flying comps dividing son of a gun and I can go all night sweetheart woo.

Styling and profiling.
Hey I don't mind being hated cause those same guys will be sitting at home having a TV dinner when their old lady is feeding us grapes as we lay naked on a bear skin rug wooo!

Question 4: How do you handle the hordes of ravenous women attacking your house?

Answer:
Let me tell you Scotty the Beatles may have had less woman running down behind them than old slick Rich.

I find them hiding in my hotel room.
It's why I rent the penthouse.

And go to the hottest clubs and tell the women Space Mountain is officially open.

Line up hold tight and plan on getting off when I say so woo.

It's no easy task being the man.
Hell I no it's no easy task just being this close to the man.

But calm yourself you little geek it's hard to witness a walking art exhibit.

Wooooo!

Question 5: As the perfect human being what advice can you offer us mortals?

Answer:
Well brother it's simple never try to walk a mile in my Italian leather twenty thousand dollars shoes.

Cause to be the man you have to beat the man.

Wooo.

Question 6: Is it true that your biceps are so powerful they can actually stop a bullet?

Answer: 
let me tell you my strength is up there with the Greek gods themselves fuck Hercules.
I take sand pour some grains between my but cheeks and produce diamonds with how hard I can squeeze.

Question 7: Do you have any concerns about facing off with Tay Tay?

Answer:
We had no holds barred session last night and although it was day time she was seeing stars.

Space mountain had her laying floor begging for more woo.

Next question.

Question 8: How would you describe your private jet and your several private islands?

Answer:
I live the life and enjoy the perks when I fly into Canada visit friend Ryan we shut down the bars and it becomes a state of emergency.

They have parades women pass out.
The hospitals overload.

I just at Michael's in Kansas City spending money like water just to look as beautiful as I do woo!

If you're scared get in my back pocket cause we are going nonstop.

This party is for the finest women, the finest drugs woo and I am God's gift to the earth woo.

Question 9: Is it hard to be the world’s most beautiful man?

Answer:
It's never a burden to be beautiful I know the men are all jealous but who can blame them?
Wooo!

Question 10: What is the secret to the universe?

Answer:
To party 24/7 live it up in fact we are flying into Canada now Ontario here we come woo Scotty grab my bags cause it's time to style and profile.

You're going to.age ten years in ten hours wooo.

The Population Boom. By Ian Copestick

Whenever I hear about the population
Of the world, now they always say
7 billion but 30 years ago when I was at school
Then it was always 6. Somehow, when my
Back was turned, another billion just
Sprung up, out of nowhere. Just think of it
So as well as all of the people who have died
In that time, another 1000000000000
Extra have arrived. Someone has been
Having a hell of a lot of sex
Well, it certainly wasn't me !

Ian Lewis Copestick is a 46 year old writer ( I prefer that term to poet ) from Stoke on Trent, England. I spend most of my life sitting,  thinking then sometimes writing. I have been published in Anti Heroin Chic, the Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry, Synchronized Chaos, the Rye Whiskey Review, Medusa's Kitchen and Horror, Sleaze, Trash.

Out of the Blue. By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

What has the doctor been smoking?

Out of the blue,

he wants to make an example of me.

I beg to differ with his assessment.

My mind is far from broken.

Sometimes I hear a voice.

It might as well be the wind.

I don't want to spend my time

locked up for no good reason.

If they had a bar in here,

maybe I would stick around.

My thoughts are my own thoughts.

No one in this world has the right

to dissect my pain and anguish.

Why can't they make this place fun?

Open up a bar in this place

and dispense beers instead of pills.

They are even making this place

a non-smoking facility.

What is the world coming to?

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, born in Mexico, lives in Southern California, and works in the mental health field 

in Los Angeles. His first book of poems, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. His other poetry books, broadsides, 

and chapbooks, have been published by Alternating Current Press, Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New American Imagist, 

New Polish Beat, Poet's Democracy, and Ten Pages Press (e-book). Online  and in print, my poems have appeared in As It Ought To Be, 

Ariel Chart, Blue Collar Review, and Mad Swirl, and The Dope Fiend Daily.