No, really.
Early this morning, I got the nod that I had won 1st place in the Anita McAndrews Poets for Human Rights Contest!
I can’t tell you how good that feels… and immediately after I got a rejection from a lit mag! 🙂
I feel it’s like the universe is keeping my ego in check 🙂
Ok writer friends, tell me what your success this month have been! Have you been published? Where at?
My new lover called today,
purring obscenities in my ear
like a fat cat about to get its fill
on something juicy.
In my excitement to get
it in, I decided to Nair,
rather than shave my thick,
auburn, pubic hair.
We were naked an hour later,
when he recoiled in horror.
I turned my head to look, then
had to explain that it was a chemical
burn and not, in fact, Herpes.
There’s always something whimsical,
nostalgic, reassuring, even,
about the smell of
Crayola Crayons.
.
It brings me back to a time
of pure joy, and innocence.
.
It’s also the reason why
I liked to fuck
in his car
so often.
You were asleep,
laying face down
on top of the tangled
bed clothes.
A Harvest moon hung
low in the sky, peeking
through the window shades
and stretching its golden fingers
of light up the length of your glorious,
nude body. The moment hung in the salty, humid
air, like a promise of what was yet to come.
With great hootin’ and hollerin’ and titties-a-floppin’, I’m excited to say that I’ve been included in Newington Blue Press’ Buk 100 Vol. 2!
I am joined by many INCREDIBLE writers such as:
The man, himself, Charles Bukowski, Ad Winans, Abel Debritto, Alan Catlin, Alexander Limarev, Alicia Mathias, Amy Barry, Anggo Genorga, Brian Whitmore, Bryn Fortey, Catfish McDaris, Cedric Barnaud, Clint Lukas (with Marina Bukowski), Christiane Nebel, Misty Illustrations, Dan Provost, Dana St. Mary, Daniel W. Wright, Danny Koslowski, Dracu Laruen, Eric Robert, Nolan Gabor, Gyukics Giovanni Manginate, Henry Hughs, Jack Henry, Ipshita Chakraborty, Jenn Hall, Joan Jobe – Smith, John Guzlowski, Leon Joron, Chava Silberstein, M. Mrazfield, Mark Cramer, Matthew Cooper, Matt Dennison, Matt Dukes Jordan, Matt Micheli, Melissa Todd, Michael D. Amitin, Michael D. Meloan, Monica Mastrantoni, Niles Reddick, Opher Goodwin, Ron Hard, Ronald P. Bremner, Shannon Laws, Ted Giffen, Tobe Damit, Tohm Bakelas, Westley Heine, Yi Jung, Zachary Guadamour, pLopLop, Paul Maher Jr., Sid Yiddish, Jami Cassady, Brian Rihlmann, Falko Henning, Paul Tanner, Bradford Middelton, Bruce Hodder, The Drunken Odyssey with John King, Hillary King, Januz Zalewski, Jay Rohr, John Greiner, John Patrick Robbins, Karol Neilson, Miriam Sagan, RP Verlaine, Wayne F. Burke, John Castellenas, Joe Callanan, Shelby Snow, and many, many more.
The aim is to print and publish this second volume before Christmas! The cost is 15,00 € (due to the larger volume of the Chapbook they slightly raised the price) plus 5,00 € shipping within Europe. Overseas shipping is 10,00 €.
Way of payment: www.paypal.me/charlesbukowski
Inquire at press@newington.blue
Trust me… I already got mine, cuz I know this one is going to sell out so fast it’ll burn the press up!
"I love you," you called to my retreating back. I wondered if it was exquisite cruelty, or reassurance. Maybe it was a measure of relief for you, Since now, you never have to see me again. Either way, it was a javelin to my (already fragile) heart.
Dear Santa,
All I want for Christmas is
The Collected Works of Charles Bukowski,
A Jesus Christ Superstar tank top
(preferably in Medium)
and a guy that will let me fuck him up the ass.
(also, preferably in Medium)
I have a photo of a place I love, took it before I even knew you existed; a pathway drenched in the golden, afternoon light which lead to a small cluster of fragrant orange trees. We stood at that very spot once, many years later and took a photo together. It's long gone but I remember it; you arms were wrapped around my hips Holding me delicately, as if I were a treasure. I was turned slightly, curled in the warmth of your shoulder, eyes closed as you kissed the side of my head, on the temple, so sweetly. Every time I look at that photo, I imagine us there - ghosts of love that never blossomed, but had always stayed sweet - and I smile at what could've been.
I like to write in the hazy, golden glow of my Edison bulbs. It makes me feel like a real artist. In reality, I'm just some middle aged white bitch with a threadbare blanket for a heart.
The best thing about
a hot shower is the sound.
No on can hear you
think, or
fuck, or
cry, or
jerk off, or
cry and jerk off
(if that’s your thing).
It’s just a wall of white noise.
.
I like to shower in
the dark,
lie down in the basin
with a washcloth
over my
eyes.
.
I feel the water droplets –
some fine as mist,
others like fat tears –
on my lips,
my nipples,
my thighs.
.
And somewhere in that
wall of sound,
I dissolve
between
the
droplets.
Poems that Suck 