What might Job have thought of the many doctors who, / when commanded by Franco’s men, took hundreds / of newborn babies from their mothers as they trembled
By Joanne Diaz(meanwhile) (my idol suggested we go someplace) / (so I cd show him my stretch-marks) (what did u call them) (the lion's miss-timed / leap
By Montana RayWe are under an upturned boat a keel of stars / just us and the other leaf eaters
By Allan PetersonK-Stew, Kerouac, and the poetic identities of 23 year olds.
By Patrick GaughanYOU WANT ME TO SKULL FUCK YOUR INTERFACE // YOU’RE NOT INSANE YOU’RE JUST BORED // WORK HARD PLAY GOD // PLAY GOD PLAY DEAD // POEMS AND
By Matthew Ritger© 2014 Blunderbuss Magazine. All rights reserved.