Michael D. Goscinski


for years
i laughed at the yoga people
the weird contortions
rapid breathing
foam bricks
monotone instruction videos
and mats
all to feel better and relieve stress
but that all changed one day
in the walk-in closet

i swear this was the longest
period any woman
had ever had
one for the record books
the lack of sex
driving me insane
i couldn’t take it anymore
i attacked her in the closet
she grabbed a rolled-up yoga mat
for us to fuck on

what we did in there
could best be described
as team yoga for nudists
with positions such as
the doggy, the plough, and cum cobra
when we finished
i noticed the puddles of fresh blood
on the now speckled yoga mat
and realized it had worked
i was now relaxed, free of stress,
and anxiously awaiting my next
yoga session

Marc Carver

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

I listened to Otis on the radio
yelled out the song as people came past
must have  thought I was some kind of lunatic
but I did not care
the way I have always not cared
even when I was at rock bottom
some people do not get up
but day after day
up I get like the man off the cross
nothing can stop me

Benjamin Blake


Why must I dig up the bones of the long dead?
Fall face-first into graves opened like ulnar arteries?
Pry open the cellar door
And let these corpses stumble out
Into the morning light?

Tombs are sealed for good reason
And unmarked resting places
Should stay that way

But the folly
Of the loins and the heart
Never learns a thing
And tonight, I have a taste
For almost-forgotten flesh

Ben John Smith


Art is trying to use a burning
To sooth a wound
You can’t see

A wound very close to where
You shit from

Art is the burn that the cream
Leaves when none of your
Ailments are soothed

Art is a very funny lie
You use to be insane.

To get away with what you can.

Art is a burning asshole.


Christopher P.P. White

I Have a Problem

I just can’t help myself.
I know that her pussy is under
That pencil skirt, Trimmed and pure
And slightly clammy,
But I just have to sit here
And listen to her explain
The benefits of depositing
My money into saving accounts
Or investments.
All I can think about is
Investing time in depositing
Something of mine
Inside her.
Fucking hell—
I have a problem.

Gwil James Thomas


Able to
rarely seen
by the
human eye –
that you

I’m at
in my
a bottle
and a
blunt –
my friend
a lot to

David Mac

Imagining Something In Her Mouth

‘I’ve had all shapes and sizes,’
she said.
‘Of dicks?’ I asked.
‘No. Of pasta,’ she replied.
‘Oh, I thought you meant dicks,’
I told her. ‘Are you sure you
didn’t mean dicks?’
‘Why would I mean dicks?’
she sneered. ‘I was
talking about the menu.’
‘The dick menu?’ I said.
‘No, the menu. We are in an
Italian restaurant.’
I looked about: ‘Oh yeah.’

My mind was always
some place else when
I was with her.


Justin Grimbol


Bella came into my office. I was working on a poem.

The poem was about butts.

I wanted to write a whole book about butts. Called it FRANKENBOOTY.

“What the fuck is that?” Bella asked.

“It’s FRANKENBOOTY. It’s going to be the next great American novel. Or poem. Or whatever.”

“No I mean that pile of trash in the corner.”

I looked over. An impressive pile of old photos, DVD cases, shitty books and other junk.

“Are you building a nest?” she asked.

“No way. Just a pile. You know how I like piles.”

“You sure do.”

“I was thinking about putting a blanket over it.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“You don’t want me to clean it?”

“I mean, I do. I do want you to clean it. But that’s a really intense pile. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

She was wearing fuzzy red sweat pants she got from my stepmom. They were baggy and cozy looking.

I grabbed her pants and pulled her close. I smelled her crotch.

She laughed and told me to stop.

“I can’t help it. I have a libido. It fills me with passion.”

“Oh baby,” she said.

And she started trying to get it on by kissing my neck and grabbing my dick.

“Stop,” I said. “I can’t do that right now. I gotta write.”


She looked at my computer screen. Microsoft Word had been minimized. YouTube was up. There was a video of a lady with a big booty twerking.

“This is you writing?”

“Sometimes when I write I watch YouTube. It gives me inspiration. You know that.”


She walked off to the living room.

And I continued writing. But I didn’t write about butts anymore. I started working on a list that I was planning on sending to Cracked.


I could only think of a few Transformers. There was Arcee. The pink lady from the movie. She was hot. Great legs.

Then there was that chick from the GoBots but she kinda seemed like a tranny. I thought trannies were sexy. But did I really want to open up about that in an article about female transformers?

I was online researching female Transformers when Bella came in again.

She looked at the screen and saw a picture of a Transformer.

“You have to be kidding me,” she said.

I shut my laptop.

“It’s not what you think,” I said.

“This is fucked,” she said.

She stormed off.

I chased after her.

She liked that.

Soon we were playing tag.

I caught her at one point and then I pulled her pants down and smelled her butt.

Then I dragged her off to the bedroom.

We started having sex.

“Have you noticed our sex has gotten a lot more cuddly?” I asked.

She nodded.

Then she kissed me.

Then I kissed her back.