Michael D. Amitin

Holy Candle Blues

In the red-sweet sunset
angel brother bends his blown glass ear
over the wall of eternity
listening in on my restless rathouse jam

She entered peeling story-caked walls
riding lightning rod brooms
swept me out to half-dippermoon bridge
we swung downtown where
waltzing heirs warmed six-figure derrieres above smorgasboard fires
I faked all the right questions into hell’s paradise

panting at the emerald city orgasm
waiting beneath her olive skin gypsy thin cocktail feast
ignoring the runaway beast

and someone beamed
they make a great couple
as we dished sweat
to god’s blistering last-chance desperate romance bugle call
my ragged sailor heart pirouetting out the hornpipe door
where muddy cliffs lick their chops and more..

On the way down
the devil in white linen gown served dark red obsession wine
before flaming flambé soft brown coconut limbs stole my grin
a fly doing backflips in the honey pot

The lava-baked sea
million miles away
a moaning rusted ship creaked like a red infection
begging to be freed from the last ripples in that skin game port

You knew all along prophet of the beautiful tracks
that my ramble played in a forest of doom
I surrendered dear Monk in the sad samba night

That wind pushed me mountains away
flushed me out of hiding in the prehistoric pubescent
road-burnt grotto
at the piano bar you played me like a thundering chord
till a midnight candle grabbed the shades
fire roaring down in flames
we crawled like god’s sweet snails to the clear-as-a-bell day

Glaring up through the dark blue smoke
where red sunset angel rained wild, untamed amazing grace ashes
down on desperate love’s last twitch
applauding the singed curtain call
live! live! he cried from his bongo perch on heaven street
hot orange coals fading in the chilled breeze
words we’ll never speak again you and I
unless fate has too much time to deal strange train cards

This harp strung midnight reverie
sad violins hijack innocent dreams
and twist the arm of violet-coated wishes

In my hidden dark room
holy candle blues…
whispers a sea wind blowing

Nirvana: Radioshead

Nirvana is a Kurdish artist and student. She makes paintings and collages and is very passionate about art history, which is how she began mixing old renaissance/baroque paintings with modern culture. She feels lucky that people are inspired and supportive of what she creates. We caught up with Nirvana to ask some questions about her creations.

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Horror Sleaze Trash: First off, we’d like to thank you for taking time out of your day to talk to Horror Sleaze Trash. I happened across you on IG and I was an instant fan of your art!
Nirvana: Hello! Thank you for your interest in what I do.

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HST: Have you always been interested in art?
N: I have always been interested in art. I have been a painter for about 6 years and started making collages about 4 years ago. Art is the most important part of my life.

HST: What got you started in/interested in art? Why did you choose to start creating collages?
N: I started doing what I do because art history is my favorite subject, and mixing it with modern culture and imagery is very fun for me. I keep on doing it because It’s enjoyable and unique, and it makes me happy that so many people support it and enjoy it.

HST: When did you first begin making collages of the renaissance/baroque paintings with modern art and photography?
N: I started July 2016. I had seen some similar stuff on tumblr, but I didn’t find them easily so I decided I would start making some of my own. I’m so glad I did.

HST: Well, you have almost 135,000 followers on Instagram, so it seems like a good move! You’ve had such an incredible response. What most inspires you?
N: Inspiration is so hard to define! Anything can be inspiring, really.

HST: That’s a very good point, especially if it’s something you are looking for in your life. How do you feel your art has changed and developed over the years?
N: I think it has largely stayed the same. I have always been interested in beauty and different concepts and mediums coming together. I think I have gotten a lot better at mixing the images.

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HST: What other kinds of art or hobbies do you indulge in? What else do you like to do in your free time?
N: I am an artist! I paint most of the day, but I also love to read.

HST: What other artists do you look up to and admire?
N: I love Matisse, Monet, Derain, Bougeureau, and Degas. Some of the contemporary artists that I love are Matthew Gaulke and Lucas David.

HST: Is there a piece of your work that you are most proud of?
N: I’m proud of all of them, I like them all equally.

HST: That’s good. I mean, a lot goes into creating them. Do you have a favorite movie or book?
N: Oh, that’s so hard to choose! I love way too many! Some movies that I will probably always love is Mystic Pizza, Closer, and Pulp Fiction. One book that I adore is The Kite Runner.

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HST: Are there any fictional characters that you personally relate to?
N: I relate the most to Phoebe Buffay from Friends.

HST: That’s awesome. My sisters are obsessed with that show. Thank you so much for taking some time to talk to us! It’s been a pleasure and we can’t wait to see more of your art in the future! Where can people find and connect with you online?

N: Thank you for reaching out! I don’t have a website, but I can be found on Instagram as @radioshead.

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Mike Zone

Argonaut’s Agony

naked hydras
melting sexes
slithering form unicorn skin
husk is what you’ve got
full of radioactive gum drops
he-she chants in ironic devotion
semblance of the humane
in the realm of species splendor
mythos point
Saturn’s rings jumbled
in the trench of Hades’ rainbow
Neptune washes
none of it away

Tim Ashworth

Show Business

red carpets lit with flash bulbs,
strapless Stella McCartneys,
champagne flutes sipping adulation
stretched limousines
private planes
saggy white gorillas in 10 thousand dollar suits.
executive fantasies of painful submission:
movie careers hung on meat hooks
beaten, sliced,
sold in penthouses;
worn like cheap thongs and thigh high boots,
Call me daddy bitch
it’s all bright lights
and blow jobs baby
his hairy gut slapping bubble butts
as bee sting lips deep throat rich meat
totting up costs of fame
entertain us, they
moan at the girl
with green eyes, as she
writes receipts
for herself