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The Scum Gentry Alternative Arts and Media
The Scum Gentry New Poetry Magazine, dark poems and poetry online.

Half-Dressed - poem by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Half-dressed, walking in traffic
and talking to herself. She danced
and sang as the authorities arrived.
She was close to being roadkill.

Sitting half-naked in the squad car
she gestures with her hands and
fingers as if shooting a small gun.
She screams out with pleasure.

“Bang, bang, I shoot you.”
She was a little drunk.
Smiling to herself, she
exposed one breast.

She kissed the squad car window.
She laughed out loud to herself.
She was a little high.
She was in a lot of trouble.

She had only one shoe on her feet.
Her left barefoot was bruised.
She called the authorities pigs.
Her eyes filled with tears.

Her half-naked body was covered
with a blanket. She was trembling
in the back of the squad car.
She asked, “Where are we going?”

She said she would not listen to
what they had to say. She formed
a kiss with her lips and then she
started to laugh. “Bang, bang”

Half-dressed, she could not recall
how she got so indiscreet.
So out of reality, she was taken
to the psych ward and held there.


Luis was born in Cuernavaca, Mexico, He lives in Southern California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles CA. His first book of poetry, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. His other poetry books and chapbooks have been published by Alternating Current Press, Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New Polish Beat, Poet's Democracy, and Ten Pages Press (e-poetry book).

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The Goddess of Pill and Plug - poem by Harley Claes

She wore metal draped upon her visage with a bullet born personality and a pocket full of religion. We worshipped her sin and posted dutifully as saints. As we were given by god our daily pay, for our loyalty. We paraded ourselves on the sexual horizon, and got so high on the divine we reeked eternally of celestial vomit. In the castle of god we ate macaroons with cannabutter and bathed in murky rosewater to cleanse our self of the day’s dealings. Kicking craving after craving till it expired on the tongue in the form of a tab. We preached fuck the feds like testimonial and got on our knees for a handful of capsules. Knowing nothing of the other than the holy mother Mary Jane and the devil China White pickin’ blossoms of blood. She snickers, ‘Welcome to the Junkie Manor, and have fun finding your way out.’

Harley Claes is a poet and novelist from Detroit, Michigan. The first publication by Harley Claes is a Poetry and Short Story anthology titled ‘Pity the Poetics.’ You can find some of her other work in Terse Journal and Anti-Heroin Chic. Her alternate ego, Lourdes Vega, has no birthplace. She was borne of the dirt and grime that is derived from experimenting with a little thing called trauma. They share no similarities. 

Twitter: @sunkissedgodles
Tumblr: @harley-claes
Instagram: @babybodhiisattva
Website: https://www.harleyclaes.com/

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In the Heart of a Saturday Afternoon - poem by John Grochalski

In the heart
Of a Saturday afternoon
He comes
Down the avenue
No modern day
Don Quixote or Walt Whitman
Battered leather coat
Gray greasy hair to his shoulders
A beard down to his chest
Ass hanging out of his stained brown pants
Hands shaking holding a fast food burger
Stopping in spots
To pick up and eat the lettuce and tomato
That have fallen on the pavement
As the multitudes
With their big plastic shopping bags
Huddled in their arms
Or faces buried in cell phones
Pass him their consumerist scorn
Part like schools of fish around him
All of them off to the next store and the next sale
Killing the weekend in a grand dull fashion
As he sets the burger on the ground
Hikes up his brown pants
Before sitting on the pavement
And finishing his meal by the dog shit and coke cans
As if a stately and regal gentleman
Passing these fleeting moments of the day
At a sidewalk café in Paris.

John Grochalski is the author of The Noose Doesn’t Get Any Looser After You Punch Out (Six Gallery Press 2008), Glass City (Low Ghost Press, 2010), In The Year of Everything Dying (Camel Saloon, 2012), Starting with the Last Name Grochalski (Coleridge Street Books, 2014), and the novels, The Librarian (Six Gallery Press 2013), and Wine Clerk (Six Gallery Press 2016).  Grochalski currently lives in Brooklyn, New York, where the garbage can smell like roses if you wish on it hard enough.

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