Thirteen Myna Birds!


Half-woman, half-flower hybrid


This Pain Requires An Audience

A dozen fetishists, you must convince,
salivating over evidence in
these basement dungeons, living rooms each wince,
whine, wail his single tail whip exhumes men

decomposing beneath unbroken skin — some
extorted their way in. Some thrust inside
a pink unenforceable door become
too many corpses your pelvic floor can’t hide

in wicked worlds that spread you wide
like he does now to show them you are wet
inside not just with tears or Astroglide,
gang bangs in veins you must bloodlet/forget.

This pain will require a visible scar.
This pain seeks witnesses to all you are.

~Kristin Garth~




Something the swingers never heard — your lips
delivering a safeword.  Dropped it, soon
as you would cry as if single tail whips
require an alibi.  Emotion hewn

from fucking dolls they shaped — lasering hair,
formed pallid cunt landscapes — explorable
by any man without pretense of care,
understanding its unendurable 

to hide away this pain.  Until a woman
sees into you and makes it plain, restrained
against a wooden frame, she will summon
unburdening until you cannot refrain

from raging, though it’s mutiny you know
to be human inside of this sex show.



Island in a Stream

she couldn't breathe
rendered spellbound
when she recognized his wooden face
the crazy in her twinkled
and tantalized the dead
back to life
she couldn't mistake
that hindered glitter
in his trapped look
he remembered details
and finally fit them all together
with his raised-flag pinocchio snout
in the air
was it panic or excitement
reflected in this eye contact?
she wanted him to feel intimidated
and to feel as insignificant as she
swooning still in the presence
of this ridiculous old prig
would it never end?
her pulse zoomed
and her loins leapt about like popping corn
she felt soggy like an over-
buttered bread butt end
under the crust was just mush
a reverie of their shared
cyber debauchery made her step dizzy
she had to brace
herself against her locker
until it passed
he was on his way to teach class.

~Jennifer L. Behling~



Hair raising story


Fleshlight Jesus

just the tip
into the fleshlight Jesus
the tip into the fleshlight
Jesus tip into the fleshlight Jesus
tip into fleshlight Jesus
tip into Jesus
into Jesus


We were expecting him
to pull a rabbit out of his hat.
So was he apparently.
Imagine his surprise
when an adder slid out
of that topper of his,
bit him on the hand.
Crying out in pain,
he stumbled into
his “vanishing box”
but then tottered out again.
He reached out
to his pretty assistant.
She handed him his saw.
He lashed wildly
in all directions,
really did cut her in half.
Then he crashed to the floor
as aces, scarves, boiled eggs
and a bunch of flowers
spilled from the pockets
of his coat.
Someone screamed,
“This is not an act.”
But not as loud
as the ones who thought it was.  

~John Grey~



After Life

Dead souls rasp
sandpaper tongues
against my eardrums
at night. In this house,
ghosts walk upside-down
across the ceiling,
in the crevices
behind cabinet doors,
gurgling through pipes
under the floor.
Someday our voices
will dance together,
making music
with the other spirits,
scraping our hind legs
together like dead
crickets chirping
in the moonlight.

Black hole sunflower



To Be Continued
I pass shuttered stores
decayed buildings
crumbling streets,
and see so many bleak faces
I fear for the future
of my struggling society.
Then a kind person says:
“Good morning.”
Flowerpots decorate
a crumbling tenement,
glorious colors
lifting drab spirits
and I am reminded
that we may continue.

~Gary Beck~



Yawning dog




cast adrift
just out there
it floats
lays about
with eyes closed
takes another sip
of coffee

turned up
it floats
to the same
of place


Monster magnolia