The Scum Gentry Poetry Hole

Confessions of a Wind-Up Doll (True Burlesque)

Confessions of a Wind-Up Doll (True Burlesque)

Poetry
Peter Marra
There is always beauty in the hissing sounds.
The alternating camera speeds reveal a long-lashed woman;
touching experimental films, she has a forceful birth
to destroy Hollywood
a local documentary,
a psychodrama,
and a spectacle of
piano crashes—
so dramatic
in the cinema on King’s Highway in Brooklyn
three prostitutes wear clear vinyl dresses
comparing themselves to each other.
a purple keeper of her soul knows this:
that every girl wants the music
that every girl wants ...
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The Cursory Search

The Cursory Search

Poetry
Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
I had expensive clothes.
My cufflinks were worth more
than your yearly salary.
Meanwhile, roaches crawled
around his clothes kept in
a cheap garbage bag.
There were no cufflinks
there, no fancy dress shirt or
any type of long sleeve
shirt inside the bag.
I had a jacket there that ...
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One For The Demigod Atheist

One For The Demigod Atheist

Poetry
John Sweet
a river through the desert,
late December,
this dust-colored sky at sunset,
these silent houses down dead-end streets
.
church spires and the taste of road salt
.
accidental overdose behind
the car wash
.
got a houseful of true believers and
a can of gasoline
.
got a hidden camera to film the
blow jobs and the payoffs
.
Fifty-five hours a week at the blood factor
and your hands no longer
wash clean ...
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Gallóglaich

Gallóglaich

Poetry
Daniel Wade
Wealth of my wayfaring and mud-smeared,
The halberd slashes off necks at the root
For mounting over hearths; blood rinses my beard
.
Of the day’s trudge. Breathing hard, I slog about
This field, corpse-carpeted, air smudged in silence,
Lifting keepsakes from pockets, flames put out
.
Of my sword’s iron lightning, brandished headlong
And notched. The sun sinks to its nightly grave
As crows swoop down on haggard wing
.
To munch eye, gnaw jowl; heaven’s ...
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Poetry Template

Poetry Template

Poetry
Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
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 ...
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The Goddess of Pill and Plug

The Goddess of Pill and Plug

Poetry
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 ...
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