December 29, 2015


did not come thief in the night.
In broadest day he crossed the yard,
paused, seeing me seeing him,
then trotted, as I thought, away.
In passing he picked up a fat black hen
and took her with him.
If he’d lurked,
if he’d slunk off into the meadow
he’d be vermin, pest
lesser enemy
but that stare hit like an axe;
that cold appraisal –
no gun, no dog at heel –
no threat..
This was his kill.
In after-shock I saw
his skills, his necessary acts
as prototype
the pinnacle of all his art
matched and surpassed
by complex revenues of human war
his daggered vision
bent to the weapon-maker’s trade
his single purpose
trodden by marching feet
and all his faculties
shrunk to a limping shadow
caught in the glare of intellect,
the mass attack
the confidence that stops you in your tracks.

Pamela Brough

Domestic Dominatrix

December 29, 2015


Never Kiss a Fat Girl

December 29, 2015


I’m not talking about the pleasingly plump,
I’m talking about the ready-for-slaughtering,
government-inspected variety,

one of which I ended up with the other night.

It was my first night out in a while
and I’m afraid I grossly overdid the old libations.
The girl (like Everest, in more senses than one)
was simply there.
At closing I escorted her to her car
and then I made one of the larger mistakes of my life:
I got in the car.

After a few minutes she drew away and said,
“You’ll have to go easy with me;
I’ve been faithful to my husband for six years.”
I said that was okay
and went back at the tits.

There was something unusual about them though;
even in the condition I was in I could tell that.
The mystery was solved when she drew away again
and said, “I don’t have any nipples.”

That called for some sort of a policy statement on my part
and I guess what I said was that it didn’t matter,
but that was an abject lie
because one of the things that turns me on most
is playing with a girl’s nipples
and furthermore this particular girl
was pretty much all tit to begin with.

So I got out of the car shortly thereafter
and the next morning the throbbing in my temples
was the least of my headaches.

Now I run into her at every turn,
the food machines, outside the men’s room,
lurking in the parking lot
and skulking by the elevators.

She left me a note today
inquiring if I wouldn’t like
to take her to the movies.

I try to treat her with civility
but I know that her wrath will not be mollified

until she’s left scar tissues
where my own erectile tissue used to be.

Gerald Locklin

Squeeze It

December 29, 2015


A pair of tweezers.
Your tongue.
A mirror.
An alarm clock.
Your bathroom.

Stand naked in front of your bathroom mirror for one hour,
arms down at sides, holding the tweezers in one hand.
When the hour is up, (you have set the alarm to go off),
stick out your tongue and decide whether or not to
squeeze it hard with the tweezers. Take as much time
as you need to decide.
When you have decided, stand in front of the mirror another
hour, performing your decision.


The piece will be completed when you have decided, honestly,
without looking at a clock or setting the alarm,
when that last hour is up.

John M. Bennett

(John M. Bennett has published over 300 books and chapbooks of poetry and other materials. He is an American experimental text, sound, and visual poet).


“What made you fall in love with a prostitute?”

“I didn’t understand it myself at the time. But I’ve thought about it since, and I think it was because, knowing that your body would never be mine alone, I had to concentrate on conquering your soul.”

Paulo Coelho
Eleven Minutes


dick osmosis

December 29, 2015


Dove tried to take her mind away from his man meat, but it was like her brain was paralyzed by dick osmosis. Johnson’s feet were big, which meant…

He has a monster cock.

Debra Anastasia
Fire Down Below

My cock inside of you

December 29, 2015


To speak a language that was as intimate and free as certain dreams, saying darkly, thrillingly, My cock inside of you. Your come in my mouth … He focused on the boy’s slim, tight hips; with the tip of his tongue he tasted an asshole’s bitter, forbidden mystery.

Paul Russell
The Coming Storm


“I want to make love to you, Rhone. I want to fill your ass with my penis and fuck you until you love it just as much as I do. I want to suck your dick and eat your balls until your cum coats my tongue and throat. I want you to do the same to me. I want to come inside you, in your mouth, in your ass, on your chest, marking you as mine in a way you can feel even when I’m not by your side. That’s what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted ever since you told me I could have a different, better life and then took the time to care and to show me how to care about myself. I want everything you can give, and I want to offer you everything that I am.”

Cameron Dane
Finding Home