Exhaustion | Updates that Suck

It’s four weeks into the semester.  No, five.

Right? Five?

Yeah, five…. and I am exhausted.

Bone weary.

Wrung out.

The only way I’m able to propel myself upward and forward every day is due to a heavily reliance on RedBull and espresso. My piss is literally orange.

Which is great.

I always wanted that for myself.

I forgot how much of a toll it is on my body and brain having to travel to the city each week. I also remember a time when I used to love being there – but now, the more time I spend there the more I fucking hate it. Everything is more complicated than it needs to be. Everything is an hour train ride (at least) away – and the trains are always packed shoulder to shoulder with barely any sitting room, let alone a place to sit. It take so much extra effort to just move in this god damn place – forget rest.

I’m tired of being packed in like a sardine. I’m tired of smelling stale piss everywhere I go. I’m tired of this high density population which robs people from seeing the humanity in others because you HAVE TO MOVE QUICKLY, NOW, NOW, NOW.

The only thing keeping me sane is the woman that I’m staying with out in Queens. She’s incredible, amazing, and I adore her and her family. I’m so happy to spend time with her. She’s got one of the best hearts I’ve ever encountered.

On top of all of this I decided to take a job… mainly because unemployment was cut off and I had sucked through all of my savings. I got bills to pay ya’ll and we all know poetry don’t pay shit.

So I decided to do package delivery with an not-to-be-named mega corporation. The job is easy, and extremely physical. Which is good for me; I got a few covid pounds I gotta lose…and being inside my head all day at school…. being in my body gives my brain a break. It’s easy. It’s a check. It’s whatever.

I just started my PhD application, too, and I’m wondering what the fuck I’m thinking. But hell… why not, right?

Anyway, I’m sorry I haven’t be around much. You know the drill if you’ve been here awhile. I generally don’t have much time to post until December when the semester ends…. but I’m still here, bumbling around.



An Interview with Punk Poetess Leia John @suckasspoetry

Check out this interview I did with Punk Noir Magazine!

Punk Noir Magazine

Can you tell our readers a little bit about how you got started in the Literature scene?

I’ve been writing my entire life, but it wasn’t until last year that I started posting old poems to a WordPress site while going through a rough patch in my personal life. It was an idea born of too much coffee (large, of course), very little sleep and a desire to take the edge of a nasty depressive episode. I had this enormous backlog so I just typed that shit up and scheduled it to post every day. I must have tagged it right because people began following.
At that point I wasn’t thinking about publishing anything beyond that site, I was content limiting the content to whoever managed to stumble upon it. Then Matthias over at Newington Blue reached out to me to see if I was interested in submitting a poem…

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A Little Late | Updates that Suck

Sorry guys, I’m a little late on getting up the Wednesday update.

I’m gonna be honest; I’m struggling with some low level depression right now. Mostly a lack of motivation an interest in things which is difficult for someone who likes to be busy all the time. The good news, I guess, is that school starts in a month – so I’ll be busy as hell.

I’m looking forward to leaving the house and socializing, but not looking forward to the 8+ hour bus ride into the city each week. It’s mentally and physically exhausting for me. Also, I’m still a little worried about large group gatherings and COVID – my friend, who was vaccinated, is a breakthrough case and got the DELTA Variant. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned about in-person classes. I did hear from my friends in Israel that they’re getting boosters – so maybe that will help? I dunno.

Overall just feeling kind of overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time, if that makes sense. Feeling the pressure of some big life decisions, and then feeling burnout as well. It’s a weird mix. I’m missing my friends in Israel, and wish I could be there – just to feel the sense of peace and stillness that I always get when I visit.

Strangely, being in school helps. It gives me focus, a schedule and a set of expectations. It helps with anxiety and depression – and, for the most part, I really like being in school. I just hate traveling there.

Anyway, hopefully this last bit of summer is treating you all well.


Fuck It | Updates that Suck

My debut chapbook, Fuck It: An Explict Chapbook of Poetry is now out with Newington Blue Press! 

With an introduction by my dear friend, Travis Cravey, the book is 42 poems deep – 13 of them exclusive to the book itself! You won’t see them on this site, or published anywhere else. 

Has been described by Dean Paesch as “Refreshing, well-crafted, authentic poetry. With its edge, it challenges, grates, is funny and above & beyond and including the effing and blinding it has a lot to say.”

If you like my work, please consider ordering it here: https://newington.blue/product/fuck-it/

With shipping, the conversion rate amounts to roughly $11 USD. Please keep in mind that it ships from Germany, so it will take about 2 weeks to get to you!

Thanks so much for all your support – both here and on Twitter. You guys keep me fucking sane. 



Cover Reveal! | Book Announcement

Hey ya’ll,

We’re getting closer to press – still looking like end of July/early August – and I’ve gotten the cover from Newington Blue Press…..



This is pretty fuckin’ exciting for me – some no name writer getting a chap – so I’m hyped to hell about it.

If you’re interested in buying a copy you can find it here : https://t.co/8RRKsWbqBc?amp=1

Blood Clots | Poems that Suck

The 'feminine mystique' is
a river of wine-red blood
which flows like rivers
from between my rolling

Of contractions in my
belly which wrack my
body so that it is 
bent doubled in upon

Of pillowy tissues
tearing from my uterine
walls, slipping from my
vagina like boneless baby


You're not a daddy.