ain't no leader like the one you can hang by John Sweet

from A Bastard Child in the Kingdom of Nil, Analog Press Submission, 2018

Art cover by Gregarious Bitch

born in the
kingdom of nil, in
the season of dying

born during the war
your children will inherit and
will you teach them
god is a lie?

that every tyrant's days
are numbered?

the only road that leads
to the future
will be paved
with their corpses

*****

John Sweet, b 1968, still numbered among the living. A believer in writing as catharsis. Opposed to all organized religion and political parties. His work has been appearing globally in both electronic and prehistoric mediums for the last 30 years. His latest collections include BASTARD FAITH (Scars Publications) and the limited edition HEATHEN TONGUE (Kendra Steiner Editions). All pertinent facts about his life are buried somewhere in his writing. 

Fandango by Walter Ruhlmann is Out Today

FANDANGO by Walter Ruhlmann is out today through Urtica Press. With a foreword by Steve Klepetar

Order your copy
$10/£10/€8 (shipping included).

ISBN: 978-0-244-10516-7 - 54 pages

contact urticalitblog at gmail dot com

"Love is illusion, and even lust is stripped of its romantic, erotic charm. Inside, hidden from the lover, lives the wolf, an embodiment of appetite as dangerous as it is energetic and wild. These poems lay themselves bare, rejecting the false comforts of easy and joyous connection." Steve Klepetar



Excerpt:

Sapiens Sucks

To disconnect oneself,
to unwire from all the mass movements,
hysterical people made more hysterical
by the atrocities, the blood-filled images
spilling over from the boxes, the overloaded screens.

To enter blunt dumbness,
no matter what happens.
To unplug from the sound, the noise rather;
razor-like screams of children being torn apart,
women raped and men beheaded
by pigs whose silvery, sharp teeth penetrate
the human mind, the fandango.

To switch off the wide eye,
any blinking eyes blinded by purple lids,
liquid hums, snow flakes melting
on the carpet stained with tea,
semen maybe, an orgasmic mayhem.

To cherish these moments:
sofa crouching,
bed burrowing,
cat purring on the laps,
laptop off, folded back to its lair.

To forget existence, others' work or worries,
only mooning over the Earth,
the large crust ball formed then deformed,
through the geological epochs.

To feel the blows of a comet,
another gamma ray outburst,
the billion miles, the trillion stars
out of reach, under this bruised skin,
concealed deep in these tar-coated lungs.

First published in Nude Bruce Review #5, August 2015

Fandango Release Date 20 August

Fandango by Walter Ruhlmann is out in 6 days through Urtica Press. With a foreword by Steve Klepetar
$10 (shipping included). £10/€8
ISBN: 978-0-244-10516-7 - 54 pages
contact urticalitblog at gmail dot com

"Love is illusion, and even lust is stripped of its romantic, erotic charm. Inside, hidden from the lover, lives the wolf, an embodiment of appetite as dangerous as it is energetic and wild. These poems lay themselves bare, rejecting the false comforts of easy and joyous connection." Steve Klepetar

Excerpt:

Poem

You say you want me inside you
but you don’t know what’s inside me.
The roguery, the erratic wolf craving for
more
meat.

What’s happening inside ourselves
always erupts and bursts outside,
in the shades of some unfathomable shelters
where we cherish the sheer moments of calm.

Now you're there, looking for me,
absolutely nothing could reassure you;
humming like I used to in the time
when we blossomed.

The mountains encircle neuralgia,
clear water is springing from their flanks
like dark blood is spurting from a corpse.

Nostalgia are at peace with themselves
but they will never leave us unharmed.
Let's collapse in the deep corridors of mercy
and burrow through a chemical shroud,
or a shredded duvet.


http://urticalitblog.blogspot.fr/
urticalitblog@gmail.com

Not So Much Staycation by Alyssa Trivett

I was a dried out prune
in the sun
enjoying my alcohol soaked time
with Summer brightness
and car tires whirring by.
I sniff newspaper delivery
java scents
and chainsaw rev up
my coffeemaker in the kitchen.
Begin.

*****

Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. Her work has recently appeared at In Between Hangovers, Apricity Magazine and The Rye Whiskey Review. She can be reached at facebook.com/alyssalovestowrite

Correspondances par Zig-Zag

publié en 1993 dans New-Loque, puis dans Mauvaise graine 11, juin 1997

J'irai naviguer sur des champs de Légo
A la recherche d'un morceau de pelle
Symbole de la terre et des patates à l'eau
Ivre de soupe et de caleçons en dentelle

Les chameaux bleus et l'île de Pâques
Tournent dans le tourbillon du bidet
Criant leur haine de la bière en Pak
Ce n'est qu'un ressort trop rouillé.

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