Month: September 2024

Dan Cuddy

A Soldier Off-Duty Overseas

So quiet
That loneliness taps on the shoulder,
Or is it the memory of her warm breath?
Turn, you find her presence in the light
Leaving,
Disappearing into the west,
Drawing each evening thing out of itself,
Coloring the receding vapors with longing.

Each second kneads another diminishing fullness of shape,
Elastic as the invisible hands that stretch
like the rose, purple, dark silver of cloud.
Vapors, the only solids, condense, melt,
Bang the tin of that thing poets call the heart.

The gleam on the glass of a farmer’s irrigation canal
fades.

What is she doing now?

Absence is so much shadow….

No one discerns the intensity of another’s subjective emotion
Except in a poem,
But words are at a loss to console. 

Elwood Weebs

A Dream That You Dared To

She had a dream about her mom’s dick.

Even in the dream she was confused.  Like, why does mom have a dick?

Her dad was there, too.  She asked him about it.

She said, “Why does mom have a dick?”

“Shhh,” he shushed her.

His eyes were fixed on the dick.  He nodded at it, eyebrows up, like ‘Get a load of THAT.’

It wasn’t too long, but it was wide — a chode, they call dicks like her mom’s.  And it was all fucked up.  Diseased, for sure.  But like, naturally fucked up too.  Birth defect fucked up. The squat shaft was covered in boils and the coiled skin piled like soft serve on a cone.  A giant vein snaked back and forth up the shaft and ended at what looked like some sort of underdeveloped pig-faced burn victim with botched skin grafts.  The penis hole was wide, and every time the vein pulsed, the hole stretched wider like it was gasping for air.

Her dad came up behind her and whispered in her ear. 

“Suck it,” he said.

She didn’t want to suck it.

“I don’t want to suck it,” she said.

He sighed and she could feel his disappointment.  The feeling said, ‘All your mother’s done for you?  All she’s done, and you can’t even suck her dick?’

She looked away from the preemie burn victim pig face of a dick and up at her mom.

Her mom looked patient, with a kind smile and soft eyes.  Her mom nodded, just a little nod.  A nod that said, ‘It’s okay.’  

The nod made her feel safe.  She said to herself, “It is okay,” and dropped to her knees.

She put her hand around her mom’s dick.  It was clammy, a little sticky.  

It stiffened.  The penis hole gasped quicker, opened wider.  The vein pulsed with her mom’s rising heart rate.

She looked at her dad.  He was trembling, shifting his weight back and forth.

She scooted in, brought her face closer to her mom’s dick.

And then she heard something coming from the penis hole.

Singing.

She put her ear to the hole.  Puffs of air tickled her hair. The voice was beautiful, a child’s voice, and it was singing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow.’

“Waaaaay uuup hiiiiigh,” it sang.

She knew that voice, that penis hole voice, familiar in a comforting way.  Her apprehension lifted. She smiled.  And opened her mouth.

Her jaw unhinged, and she took her mom’s dick in her mouth.

The whole thing.

Preemie pig faced burn victim and all.

The whole thing.

Boils ruptured.  Puss ran from her lips, dribbled down her chin.  It tasted wholesome.

She moved her mouth up and down on her mom’s dick.  

Bobbed her head.

Her dad squealed, hopped in placed while clapping his hands.

She gripped the shaft, bobbed her head faster.

And faster.

And faster.

Her mom groaned, thrust her hips.

And then…

And then…

Her mom ejaculated.

Her mom’s preemie pig faced burn victim dick became a hot spring, and she gulped with each pulse, in rhythm.  

But it kept coming.  The pressure was too great.

It shot from her nose, her ears, dripped from her eyes.  It pulsed through her pores, entered her bloodstream, moved through her organs, into her heart.

Joy.  Electric joy, ecstatic joy.

And then it was over.

She sat back onto the floor and cried.  Cried tears of joy. Of joy and cum.  Her parents came to her, wrapped their arms around her, cried with her.

And then she became someone else, somewhere else.  She was a child – she was her mother as a child.  She still sat back on her knees, but on a worn rug in front of a black and white television.  Judy Garland was on the screen, wearing a checkered dress and a look of nostalgia.  

Judy was singing.

“Sooooommewheeere oooover the raaainbow…”

Her mother’s voice sang along, her child’s voice tender, matching Judy’s nostalgia.

“Bllluuuuuue biiird flyyy

Aaaand the dream that you daaare to

Oooh whyyy, ooOoh whyyy caaan’t Iiiiiiiii.”

Preacher Allgood

the wrong apple

things are looking bad
for the planet
for the people
for the future
but maybe all we need is each other
and a rat trap old jeep
to ferry us into the desert
where the air hangs hot and still
with the weight of isolation and decay
and the endless sands burn
with the fires of dead civilizations

we’ll strip naked
and we’ll crawl back to what’s left of the garden
and ask the snake
where in the hell did we get it wrong?
did we screw up the translation?
did we eat the wrong apple?
or did we just let god bully us 
out of the garden
because we couldn’t see through
his phony bluster?

and if we can’t find the snake
or the snake refuses to talk
we’ll fuck our brains out
in the shade of an iron wood tree

J.J. Campbell

churches and liquor stores

maybe it is just in ohio, 
but i have always been
able to tell the towns
that are dying by the
number of churches
and liquor stores

now, add in the number
of urgent care places

the part of the county
i live in might as well
be extinct

of course, here comes
another smoke shop
that isn’t allowed to
sell weed

one decent restaurant
and about a thousand
reasons to leave

now i just need to hit
a lottery or a twenty
team parlay

as usual, the odds are
against me

Daniel de Culla

Jupiter’s Scepter

That girl from Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
Who I chose to have sex with
Put a mechanical device in her cunt
Made with tin lips.
Ouch, ouch, ouch!
I, Silvano, like a brave and brazen satyr
Like an erect and horny donkey
Or a god riding his donkey
Came to the battle of Love.
Before entering it
I was already cumming with pleasure
And the erection was taking me where it wanted.
What a good feed she was going to give me!
I already tore off the tin lips
Of that beautiful and conceited woman
With two gigantic tits.
I already unhinged her Mount of Venus.
The combat was going to be very bloody.
I felt it from that ejaculation
That I introduced red
My hands placed on the poles of her ass
My glans reaching the roof of her vagina
Broken, going through all that junk.
She just shuddered.
Her two tits trembled.
Ouch, ouch, ouch!
You’re breaking it, man!
My ovaries are bursting!
Enraged, I already ejaculated in her like a donkey.
She had a hesitant orgasm.
When I pulled out, I was stunned
Slipping and falling
From her mons pubis.
Her tin pussy hurt my member
Swelling excessively
Having to go to the hospital
So that a urologist could see me
Like a puppet with a huge penis
And with a headache.
Damn the hour when I put
That whore Etna’s cunt on as a hat
For I was thrown into her carnal hell
By joyfully wounding her by penetrating her
A trace or relic of her remained:
A shaving of her tin lips
In the middle of my balls.
The doctor who attended me
Was amazed by such swelling
Asking me the address of this whore
Exclaiming:
This penis looks like Jupiter’s scepter!
Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!