ABOUT

CONTENTS

EDITORIAL

ARCHIVE

LAGNIAPPE

MAST

SUBMISSIONS

The agonising wait of an idiot boy

Waiting for something
Anything to change
To get me away from the
Shadows and shit and
Soul of the bleak house hell
Waiting in the coarse sad hallways
Leaning on dark, mouldy walls
Sitting
Smoking
Drinking
Fucking
Waiting for anything and
Nothing at all




She was

I can remember her now
She claimed her name
Was Rosie
A weird
Smacked out
Burnt up
Streetwalker
Who lurked like a
Constant shadow
And a too sad reminder
Of the worlds sickness
The fag perpetually
Hanging from her lips
Her semen stained
Charity shop dress
Hugging her frail
Bones and
Old flesh close
As she ranted and yelled
At the passing suburbanite
Cars too afraid
Or too cheap to stop for her
Her beating on the
Door of one of my neighbours
Bashing and blasting
The door from its frame
Desperate
Afraid
It turns out
She hadn't paid her
Dues and the local dealers
Came for her with their
Guns and their
Knives and their
Snarls of rage
She woke me up
With her banging and yelling
I cursed her
And never saw her
On her familiar street corner
Again



Sage

I was once told
Some words that shaped me
And made me
The cretin I am today
A idiotic wise man
Claimed I'd either end up
A writer or in jail
Well I have tried both
And I am still writing
And can't figure out
What that means