Manifesto by John Thomas Menesini

the only poets I like are the poets I know – inappropriate erections in thin pants have more influence on my writing than art – art does not arouse in me a desire to create shit, it only gives me a framework in which to create shit

I’m more inspired by your Mom or old wino piss & I’d rather sidestep poopsmears on the sidewalk than pay to walk around the Whitney

Da…

Pixie by Lucille Gelsomina Falco

her name is censored she runs with the lame deer

rusted joints cause her to shriek through the bark of her lean-to

her corneas diluted yellowed with gasoline with a crude oil vocabulary and vaginal molars

her hair grows backwards so she braided dead rats tail to tail to tail to tail

previously published by Fuck Art, Let’s Dance

Making Love by Jeremiah Walton

like chewing roses like love

I’m hallucinating that mad man again

he’s in the bedroom with his beard waking me from dreams I don’t remember then he’s really there

I swing a knife I don’t know how to use accidentally gut him going to jail for murder

(good lawyers are out of my wallet’s width)

or knick him he’ll chuckle reaching out with working man hands

& strangle me.

Big Boys by Alfonso Colasuonno

My friend was into graff She bombed our weed spot with the words “big boy” She tagged up an 80 next to it – 8.0 inches Every decimal counts, right?

I thought she was being clever Just a discreet way to show off her boy’s cock Eight inches she claimed And she always complained about being sore How he’d stretch her out, and the pain

It turns out She was into Oxys

I…

Reflecting on Everything That I Loved About Your Art Exhibition by Gwil James Thomas

Free booze.

previously published in Fuck Art, Let’s Dance

Speedballin’ on K-pins & Ritalin A ghost of a villanelle for South Western Pennsylvania by Christina M. Sparks

You said: you gotta crush it between to credit cards going 75 down Route 8, cut it smooth,

draw it out on your compact mirror, roll your last dollar & snort that shit in 3 lines – one for the father, son & holy spirit. You said: you gotta crush it

Lick the Devil’s share off the mirror. Yo…

Ride freights, look crazy, smellin like smoke, boots rat-tat-ty, and Fuck Art, Let’s Dance issue #008 has been released live to the general public of literature consumption.  This issue contains poetry and writing from Jeremiah Walton, John Thomas Menesini, Ally Malinenko, Joseph James Cawein, among other rambunctious voices of this century.

This is poetry for Today.  These are the poets…

the Eucharist by Katie Hogan

a priest with greasy fingers shoving french fries through his chapped lips, smiling through his rotting teeth.

this is the body of christ.

and he laughs with his mouth full, remnants of swept up potatoes glued to his cheeks, as his white collar grows tighter.

let us rejoice and give thanks.

he grabs his soda, lips eagerly kissing the rim, chugging down the ounces of…

Speedballin’ on K-pins & Ritalin a ghost of a villanelle for South Western Pennsylvania

by Christina M. Sparks

You said: you gotta crush it between to credit cards going 75 down Route 8, cut it smooth,

draw it out on your compact mirror, roll your last dollar & snort that shit in 3 lines – one for the father, son & holy spirit. You said: you gotta crush it

Lick the Devil’s share off the mirror. Yo…

the Eucharist  by Katie Hogan a priest with greasy fingers shoving french fries through his chapped lips, smiling through his rotting teeth.

this is the body of christ.

and he laughs with his mouth full, remnants of swept up potatoes glued to his cheeks, as his white collar grows tighter.

let us rejoice and give thanks.

he grabs his soda, lips eagerly kissing the rim, chugging down the ounces of…

Sleeping with the Moon in my arms by Dreamer

I want to fall asleep holding you I want to adventure with you in my dreams I want to wake up next to you I want to adventure with you awake. Fold me safe inside of you Fold you safe inside me Feel each soft before the funeral in my brain does role call.

previously published in Fuck Art, Let’s Dance

Swamp Lake by Zarina Zabrisky

Mother lobotomized Mother blindfolded Gagged Mother sick

Mother Name stained Soiled Shamed Mother

Russia

Hey!!! Wake up!!!

How long will you stay on all fours the centuries passing you by, Mausoleum mummies and Ghosts of Communism having their way with you?

“civilization,” “reflection,” “humanity” nothing but soap bubbles in your medieval bear thick slumber

is all you…

She Says by Ben John Smith

She says

“You always want every one to die at the end of the movie, it’s like you only want bad things to happen. People don’t always get what they deserve and not every one has to pay for their mistakes with their lives!”

She says this as she frees herself from the blanket and holds the red wine tumbler above her head.

With no bra on, one of her nipples is exposed from…

How high are the wolves? by Jeremiah Walton

How high are the wolves?

“YOU HAVE TWO FUCKING OPTIONS KID AND IF YOU HESITATE I’LL PUT ONE BULLET IN HER ASS BREAK HER FINGERS BLOODY SHOOT YOUR BALLSAK YING YANG YOUR BODIES THEN STOMP YOU BOTH DEAD Here are your options.”

The thought tosses me a gun.

“Shoot yourself or I shoot Her.”

*bang*

The wolves are stoned.

previously published in Fuck Art, Let’s…