David Christopher la Terre… Cynical Internet Pundit & Dead Jester


Cynical Internet Pundit & Dead Jester

we are being led. even the grumpy, cynical internet pundit – s/he’ll go kicking & hackneyed – but led down the same path to the same pit that history half-recorded: for the wits had their glasses shot off, & all the sportos were in charge of cargo transport. the goon squad is reborn everyday in learning institutions & halls of government. i painted myself as a satyr but still made bids with ATMs & communication companies, as head-nodding Heaven & organ-failure Hell looked on .. even this pendant life doesn’t accept characters or emoticons on their .docs. we didn’t make the template. we just went down the hole

dead jester: send more jesters. send a variety of shop-sink malbec with talons in spirituality & survivalist mediocrity. is this gonna be the matt damon version or the gary cooper version of floating literatzi bogem? a car is a salute is a hamburger. love comes slowly like an annual teetering orbit & we munch on panini mango in the channel-separation. hail, here comes the coolie retail chain blocked-hat. Caveat Bipedum; IED in the afterlife Barneys party dress parade ~ i walked out of the experimental film of my life .. this ‘anteroom’ smells like cliched embryonic buzz.


David Christopher la Terre is an old punk, advertising brat, artist, writer, hit-and-run orator, humorist, exfilmmaker, “asexual icon” and sentimental Modernist pursuing work in new formats, hybrids, language arts, Sound Poetry, decon, “post-mod,” prank-art … ‘living satire’ … he has been published in the Slate, Spleen, Lost & Found Times, Rag Mag, Roar Shock, Open Minds & Monkeybicycle.




S. Thomas Summers… A Lost Child


A Lost Child

The wolves
The pines
from the air,
horde it beneath
their limbs.
in an apron,
her mother
in the black
by the deep well
holding a candle,
the dancing flame
a final hope.


S. Thomas Summers is an Author, Teacher/Professor of Literature, Writing, and Philosophy at Wayne Hills High School and Passaic County Community College

Copyright © 2016 by S. Thomas Summers









Stephen Philip Druce… The Kissagram Cake


The Kissagram Cake

The kissagram was meant
to leap out of the giant
birthday cake, but
she was found
inside it.
I didn’t eat
any cake, but
the other guests
did, until there was
nothing left
but a corpse
lying in the
living room.
The guests were later
struck down with
birthday cake curse –
nightmares of a giant
cake, with hideous pink
writing on the top of it,
spelling the words –
Happy 60th Birthday
( sarcastically )
with candles sticking
into it, and suffocated
between the icing
and the fruit
was the marzipan trapped
inside screaming, and
the crumbs were just
left to rot.


Stephen Philip Druce is a poet/humour essayist published in the UK, USA, Canada and India. In August 2015 he signed an e-book deal with Tri Screen Connection in The USA – with his British style humour book of Absurd and nonsensical essays – QUIRKY SHORTS. link here – http://www.web-e-books.com/index.php#load?type=author&product=62

To hear Stephen read his poems/humour poems link here http://youtu.be/nLBrHCkeSMg

Copyright © 2016 by Erin J. Jones









Erin J. Jones… birds feeding


birds feeding

in the backyard
a squirrel plays
and me
back porch
summertime reading


Erin Jones was born in Wisconsin and raised in Arkansas. After graduating high school he went off to college, dropped out of college, and enlisted in the U.S. Army where he served as a cavalry scout. Returning to college, he graduated from the University of Arkansas with B.A.s in communication and economics. Today he works as a mild-mannered salesperson. He has published in Criminal Class Review and Poesia. In his free time he collects beer cans and brewerianna.

Copyright © 2016 by Erin J. Jones









Laryssa Wirstiuk… Jade Bangle


Jade Bangle

I covet the bangle in the pawn shop window
on Central Avenue: after two years, still
ninety dollars and available. When I walk
to the bank or pharmacy, I imagine it
on my wrist: cold and heavier than metal.
I’ve heard the cloudy green stone promotes
wisdom, balance, and peace. I heard the TV
in the other room when the announcer said,
“Chinese women used to wear jade bangles
to practice etiquette and move with fluid grace.”
Click of stone on stone meant clumsiness.
Later, on Google, I wonder if I had imagined
that history; search for “jade bangle etiquette”
yields little. I do find, however, anecdotes
from women who have grown into jewelry
they never removed. Maybe I’m too old
to buy jade, absorb the wisdom of immobile
reminders. Maybe the winters are too cold
to be graceful. Anyway, my wrists are covered.


Laryssa Wirstiuk lives in Jersey City, NJ with her mini dachshund Charlotte Moo. Laryssa’s literary preoccupations include fruit, gemstones, and coastal states in summer. Her poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction have been published in Gargoyle Magazine, Word Riot, Barely South Review, and Up the Staircase Quarterly. http://www.laryssawirstiuk.com

Copyright © 2016 by Laryssa Wirstiuk