Still on the Road

John W. Leyes/Darkness of His Dreams

John W. Leys

Driving down the poison highway
Through the nightmares of my youth:
Saccharine poetry, suicidal thoughts;
Disastrous experiments with vermouth.

Sterilizing self-inflicted wounds
With tequila, scotch and beer.
Bathed in sticky sweat,
Self-loathing, and fear.

Decades down a dusty highway
Through the terrors of middle-age:
Thinning hair; graying beard
Covering the still smoldering rage.

Calming the demons of the mind
With a single chilled glass of mead,
Wounds healed; scars run deep,
And occasionally still bleed.

Seeking release from suffering
In Athens; under an old fig tree.
A chance to finally flourish,
Living life in true equanimity.


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Americas bread

Beth Tremaglio

beth tremaglio

“Soundness has left her soil.”
Americas bread..
Thousands stand on Americas land




without a god

she is left to herself.
America has cast herself unjustly upon

unknown waters

has sold her own for profit,

her children’s future land





upon their backs a weight of stone

they will chip away at,

belts around their waists pulled tighter with each swing.
Americas bread has now

returned to her diseased

poisonous waters flood

the streets


she is at war with herself


the wheat and tares

grasp for power,

drowning in her own lusts

for a new world built off of old systems

soundness has left her soil.

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Glitter Ghosts

Glitter Ghosts

There is no shame in undressing

But I can’t help feeling

If the trees had teeth they’d be gritted

Down to the gums

As the cold licks them clean.

I’ve been thinking a lot about hurricanes

People and possessions and cars

Torn away on unknown currents

Houses buckling and spilling their contents. Exorcisms

Everything gone with one sweep of tide

pollution spat into a swirl of Godawful senselessness.

How our losses end up in landfills or tangles of wheezing gulls and turtles.

Our impermanence fossilised in plastic

Junk that we’ve buried in the frenzy of squirrels

Knowing the winter will starve us

Knowing as we wait on the roofs of our lot,

No one has sent the boats or helicopters for us.

And wood, wood knows how to rot,

Even rock doesn’t know how to let the tide

Scape it so smooth.

If we could lose our bones like beachwood

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My Indecent Spell

It is in blackened chambers I cast a spell on you only  you my spell one of darkness deviousness delicious, decadent desire that will lick up every decent thought you had and bury them in folds of my devil where pulses milk your fuel and guttural screams fill me more than once ©MidwestFantasy 09/29/2017 Ph-Pinterest

Intoxication- Aurora Phoenix, Guest Barista

my eyes launch celestial rockets from limpid labyrinthine pools spark interest blur your vision my murmurs Calliope elegiac symphonies sway limbs rhythmic tilt you off-kilter my touch feathered fingertip graze flutters kaleidoscope of butterflies incites your insides to inebriated riot my kiss spiced violet blackberry lingers on your tongue leggy blushes beyond the pale in … Continue reading Intoxication- Aurora Phoenix, Guest Barista

For Vincent van Gogh-John W. Leys, Guest Barista

Life is suffering, Every day a struggle, Tormented from within and without Compulsed to share visions No one else can see, To paint portraits of a turbulent world Through the lens of a turbulent mind On a luminescent night in Provence Shimmering Venus and Ares framed By the Asylum window, An ecstatic celebration of life, … Continue reading For Vincent van Gogh-John W. Leys, Guest Barista