Mike Zone is the Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press, the author of Fuck You: A Fucking Poetry Chap, Shedding Dark Places (almost), One Hell of a Muse, as well as coauthor of The Grind.  A frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl. His work has been featured in: Horror Sleaze Trash, Better Than Starbucks, Piker Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, Outlaw Poetry and Cult Culture magazine.

Elemental reconfiguration

(for giulio)

Devastation into open dreams
The hardboiled ones wander against karma dogs might
robots on acid
an awakening prevails from psychopathic slumber
ah, to truly see again
lacking a sense of vertigo
anticipating nothing
but the joy of infinity 
I’ve seen the color of dirt 
underneath a cracking day-break sky 
struggling with the bleeding night

Trying to whistle at the lady on a wire

(to a certain lady on a wire)

She said
Son, you ain’t got no game if them bullets don’t whistle
I can’t whistle
but
bang-bang anyway
if I were a cop
I’d arrest her
for stealing my heart
instead
I just got shot
DOWN

got me all kinds of wired

(to the lady on the wire#2)

wings like switchblades
like some back alley dark angel
something about doing lines off her back
have to believe it’s more than just jack-jawing word spasms
quivering from your poisonous vibrations
the cleansing type of toxicity
I want you to take me to Razorville
to remember the life I took
in the tub
tepid water
the life I kept taking
over and over
until I realized
it was there
along with you
where the graves of lions’ pride
will finally
be left
in the sand
rendered
untraceable
the lady extends her hand
bringing me back to the moments
when my mother first got her sight back
I look away