The Ass of God

Patricia stabbed Ronnie
3 times in the stomach
but he survived and
they got divorced

Texas was a one eyed manager
of the ‘Dripping Spring’ and
after 3 years he hit the road
with 18 months of takings

Ruby was held hostage for 48 hours
and forced by a fuck-freak into
sex acts her modeling career
had never anticipated

Julian was a junkie and bisexual
and a talented artist who
committed suicide by heroin
after his partner had died of AIDS

Monkey Dave, the hash dealer,
died of a broken heart after
learning his beautiful wife
was being fucked senseless
by his friends and customers

Linda, also a pot dealer,
was sexy and wore short skirts
and tight white panties
and low cut blouses and
died of cancer aged 45

Niko was a junkie
and we all assumed
that he’d die of O/D but
cancer beat his ass aged 44

Ricky was a sweet kid
but a methamphetamine
induced heart attack
took him aged 29

Sailor Al was stabbed
to death in a hovel,
Gordon froze to death
on the streets, and
Mick the Karate survived
4 gunshot wounds and
even lived to take
his revenge

Tony, the street drinker,
told me he was going to
shove this life up
the ass of God

These poems by David Boski hit hard and punch you in the face like the narrator in the opening poem ‘Thanks for Asking’. Confronting the demons found in sickness, death, relationships and simply walking his dog, Boski is unafraid to spit out the truth. Although some poems have been written in the times of Covid-19, Boski reminds us that there has always been suffering, isolation and fear. Difficult things to deal with, and Boski asks on more than one occasion “What’s the point?” I would say it’s that we need to endure and face the demons and Boski’s words show us we are not alone in doing so.

—Adrian Manning, Poet and Publisher: Concrete Meat Press

For copies, please contact:
boski.david.boski@gmail.com or johndrobinson@yahoo.co.uk

Lies

This poem is about the prowess of our sexual organs.
We know just how to slap them together.
It’s a gorgeous rhythmic sound.
Our orgasms are regular and simultaneous.
We are never ambivalent,
least of all our loins.
They’re furnaces down there.
I could get it up right now!
Sure, I don’t mind a condom but
I was tested last week.
I’d love to hear your confession
but i must confess something first—
someone is calling on the other line.
Also, I am out of town.

Quiet Master

Like the cellulose encased chunks of Einstein’s brain
They want my prose in rows, my poetry about a gust through the trees
My poetry doesn’t give a singular phonetical fuck about your doctor of philosophy
There is no healing for those who wound themselves

‘Art School Drop Out Aficionado’ and a roach clip on my desk
Taxes require income, poets only know the inevitability of death
I’m digging a mine shaft with my fingernails and a fountain pen
The artists’ creed, I blink therefore I am
For what is thought without vision?

I am your favorite writer’s favorite writer to plagiarize
At school, they told me to explain more but when I did, they understood less
I don’t interfere with my peers when they sell their souls to paperback presses
When they give eighty hours a week to a job they hate to pay for their chic Soho loft
So they can ‘be on the scene’
When we speak two years later they say they haven’t written in a couple of years

She Was No Playboy Bunny 

She spat toothpaste 
into the sink 
mumblin’ that
there was nothin’
“underground” 
about my poetry,
nothin’ worthy 
of Bukowski & Inc

She had pink
pubic hairs 
and her old man 
drank a whole
lot of nothin’

While I stood there 
thinkin’ on how 
I was a fool 
to believe   
easter eggs 
fell out of
her snatch

Pompeii Excavation

The recent Pompeii excavation
unearthed a stunning revelation:

A corpse with hand on crotch
was found beneath the rubble

While others ran like hell
he didn’t take the trouble

To move his fingers from his private plumbing
It’s fair to say he didn’t see it coming

Melancholy with a splash of Tito’s

I wanted to write that I’d felt
several times I would never 
outlast that I’d never get 
here – I’ve laid still

under naysayers and boasters
I played dead to avoid
being beaten to death 
even when I lay buried deep in soft

earth I dug and clawed out just 
in time to breathe I wanted
to say it would be ironic 
to run into the few sharers

and we would laugh recalling
how lovely a share it was
in those hazy days
I wanted to say I thought of you

wondered if I killed you as well 
it’s a slow death but oh how 
desirable to feel it…..one more 
time one more day

I’d give a lot of money 
a piece of myself
although there is a part of me 
that lingered in that place

if you lose your arm or a finger
you still feel that it is there
it yanks at me always
moves me and I 

sometimes feel 
that old part of me 
saunter into the room
in search of you

The Phases Of The Moon

I don’t exactly understand why, but
my new girlfriend won’t come indoors
after dark when she’s having her period.
When I ask her about it, she just murmurs
something about needing to live in harmony
with the phases of the moon. I’ve decided
to buy her a tent and good a sleeping bag 
for her birthday, and an economy-sized box
of Stayfree Overnight Maxi Pads.

Porn Hub

one lesbian in 
pantyhose sniffs the
feet of another

your step-sister says
she won’t tell anybody
from your point of view

the girl instructs you
how to jack off and laughs at
your pathetic dick

a man spends an hour
groping a woman on a
bus while she acts calm

your ‘wife’ looks at you
while having sex with a real
man with a real cock

a woman touches
herself in her car in a
Walmart parking lot

this compilation
features twenty-one facials
in seven minutes

a ‘daughter’ brings her
boyfriend home to her ‘mother’
and guess what happens

do you relate to
the woman with the strap-on
or her girlfriend

a woman is caught
and ravished by tentacles—
only in Japan

a woman takes off 
everything but her hijab
filmed by her husband

your mom has sex with 
your bully so he’ll leave you
alone and you watch

a man in anger
management fucks the mouth of
his hot therapist

two full hours of girls
masturbating and reaching
orgasm—two full hours

there apparently 
are amateur women who
like to give blowjobs

a black man makes a
white woman say the n word
while he slaps her

this sissy trainer
uses het porn clips to show
you that you are gay

horror, adj. inspiring or creating loathing, aversion, etc.

sleaze, adj. contemptibly low, mean, or disreputable

trash, n. literary or artistic material of poor or inferior quality

Welcome to HSTQ: Fall 2020, the curated collection from Horror, Sleaze and Trash!

Featuring poetry by William Taylor Jr., Michael D. Amitin, Casey Renee Kiser, Judge Santiago Burdon, David J. Thompson, J.J. Campbell, Johnny Scarlotti, David Boski, Kerney Bee, Daniel S. Irwin, Paul Tanner, James Diaz, Andy Seven, damion snow, Jeffrey Zable, Jeff Weddle, John Maurer, John Tustin, Donna Dallas, John D Robinson, Dave Cullern, and Matt Amott.

Kindly PayPal 5 USD to arthur.graham.pub@gmail.com, or get your FREE ebook here!

More of the lovely Miss Ginger HERE