Pick Your Poison by John Patrick Robbins

The bleach didn't work so I snorted ajax and purchased a hazmat suit online from amazon.

Washed my hands until they bled, kept my distance and watched the news daily till I went damn near insane.

And marveled at my neighbor who huffed paint and seldom was alone.

He never wore a mask and he didn't seem to wash his hands, so I doubt he washed his ass either.

The ignorant will outlive us all and the drunks may truly have a great point .

So I bought a carton of cigarettes and a case of whiskey .

We are all going to die anyways, least this way I get to choose . 

Sayonara my darlings.

John Patrick Robbins, is the editor of the Rye Whiskey Review.

His work been published in.

Punk Noir Magazine, Piker Press, Heroin Love Songs, The Blue Nib , Sacred Chickens, Romingos Porch, Angry Old Man Magazine, Red Fez, San Pedro River Review, San Antonio Review, The Dope Fiend Daily.

His work is always unfiltered.

Wrestling with the Sun. By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

I wrestled with the sun all morning and afternoon.

I lost a hair or two and maybe a gold tooth.

I melted under the hostile sun and the beer I drank

did not quench my thirst or stop my tears.

The burning sensation I felt from its touch

was not like the kisses I sadly missed. When will

I find my luck in the sun. I feel like I am always

under its watch and I take its most brutal shots.

I feel like taking a dip in the river. Its reflection

is always there. The sun drowns me with scorching

rays and I do not know how I remain standing.

I could taste its fire and feel its heat in my eyelids.

One day I will not be able to see. At the local saloon

I will not raise a toast to the sun as a principle.

Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health 

field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,

Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.

A New Something. By John Drudge

All of the angels

Have broken wings

In this new something

Happening

This New Testament 

Of torture

With the creatures 

That crawl out 

From under the night

And the bleak things

That become everything

As the distance 

Between us  

Diminishes

Among the roots

Of fallen trees

And we dig the arid dirt

That’s left to us

John works as a clinical social worker and is the president of a national disability management company. He holds degrees in Social Work, Psychology, and Rehabilitation Services and has studied philosophy extensively.  He is an avid traveler and a long-term student of the martial arts holding a 3rd degree black-belt in Kempo Karate. His diverse educational and experiential background gives him a broad base from which to approach many topics in his poetry. John currently lives with his wife and two children in Caledon, Ontario, Canada. 

Drunken Note #2. By Mendes Biondo

the hangover day is a moment of our life

set out of time and place

everything you do is slowed down

even your neighbor looks funnier

hangover day it's all about surviving cruelty

of everyday life

without using your mask that is swinging 

from the wire where you generally hang the pants

I saw the picture of a wide ass woman

during my last hangover day

and it rested in my mind till the end of the day

could you imagine it?

a wonderfully shaped

wide and fresh

light pink quite ivory

chubby ass

of an alt model

looking for a photographer

or a job

sometimes happiness is a bunch of pixels

and a good bottle of booze

Mendes Biondo is a Blues poet.
His works are widely published on magazines and anthologies from all over the world. He is one of the editors of The Ramingo's Porch and PpigpenN. He is the author of "Spaghetti & Meatballs - Poems for Hot Organs" (Pski's Porch Publishing), “Where Hot Rod Rides” (Cajun Mutt Press), the limited edition chapbook “Young, Cruel and Angry Was The Night” (Holy & Intoxicated Press) and “River House Blues” (Horror Sleaze Trash).

Mod Sunglasses i.m. Michael Murray. By John Doyle

 Like Italians wore

zooming round Naples on scooters - 

in 1959;

Infinity's the star

of two-tone Fellini movies, 

jazz music, slim smiling 20 year olds. 

Mod sunglasses like Michael wore    

as I met him on my rounds, 

his eyesight fading, 

horse-racing on tv.    

I greet him, for the final time.  

Heart attack, suddenly, 

the matron tells me the following Friday

John Doyle became a Mod again in the summer of 2017 to fight off his impending mid-life crisis; whether this has been a success remains to be seen. He has has two collections published to date, A Stirring at Dusk in 2017, and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018, both on PSKI's Porch. 

He is based in Maynooth, County Kildare, Ireland. All he asks is that you leave your guns at the door and tie up your horses before your enter.

Bonfire by Susan Tepper

For reasons vast 

and numerous

may I call you god?

Using the lower case?

I do know my place.

I’ve split from the living—

too much pointless 

swag and conversation—

Sticks in the yard

offer more in the way

of heft and texture.

Feel good in my hands.

Kneeling I gather them 

stacked with their own kind: 

Saplings and desiccated

barks entwine.  A big bonfire.  

Then you may deliver me.

Susan Tepper is the author of eight published books of fiction and poetry. Her most recent book just out in June is a road novel titled “What Drives Men.” It was shortlisted at American Book Fest Best Book Awards. Other honors and awards include eighteen Pushcart Nominations, a Pulitzer Prize Nomination for the novel “What May Have Been” (Cervena Barva Press, and currently being adapted for the stage), NPR’s Selected Shorts Series, Second Place Winner in Story/South Million Writers Award, Best Story of 17 Years of Vestal Review, Shortlisted 7th in the Zoetrope Novel Contest (2003), Best of the Net and more. Tepper is a native New Yorker.

RHCP. By Alex Z. Salinas

Larry Rios is on his way to buy to milk, instant coffee and a few knickknacks when “I Could Die for You” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers comes on. Thirty seconds into the song he decides its opening lyrics are the most tender he’s ever heard. Something inside the cards / I know is right / Don't want to live / somebody else's life. Somewhere in the horizon Anthony Kiedis is hurting bad. The pain of longing never fully fades. The thing about Kierkegaardian anguish is you can’t put it into words. It’s only meant to happen to you. Live inside you forever.

Alex Z. Salinas lives in San Antonio, Texas. He is the author of WARBLES, a full-length poetry collection from Hekate Publishing (2019), and Dreamt, a limited-edition chapbook from Analog Submission Press (2020). His poems, short fiction and op-eds have appeared in various print and electronic publications, and he serves as poetry editor for the San Antonio Review. He holds an M.A. in English Literature and Language from St. Mary’s University.