Literary Vandals

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Tag: poem

  • by Marty Shambles i don’t watch the newsbecause i already knowwhat’s happening. gaza is being bombed all tohell and the media isrunning cover for it. this is not my thingto write about. it doesn’tbelong in the belly of a poet, amid the coffeeand loathing. it belongsin museums of atrocities after justice for palestine.what have i […]

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  • by Marty Shambles is the idea that it is moral tohoard capital because you(the rich guy)are smartand you can apportion economic justicewith more acuity than institutions. effective altruism is an ideologicaljustification for hoarding capital.it likes to dress itself up as platoand prances around in a toga. butthere are no philosopher kings.and being rich doesn’t make […]

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  • by Marty Shambles i knew this guy whose whole thingwas rock climbing. but why. whatcould he possibly get out of climbingto the top of a thing? it seems too simple. ‘big thing. must climb.’but i have a fear of heightssometimes. heights expose theinsignificance of my meat. that i could be reduced to a splatteron concrete […]

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  • by Marty Shambles when the blood of the godsmeets stone a new elementis born from the mixing. precipitous elixir offecund soil and breathingsplashes on the crashing seeds breaking forthfrom stasis, split-faced,on loam of black depth.

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  • by Marty Shambles power lines used to singto the planes overhead.it wasn’t really a song,but a dull hum that warnedof the fall from gravity’sfavor.now on the planeseveryone is crammed inlike canned meats, saltedwith peanuts, which arethe last comfort affordedto the patrons, who do notfind beauty in theiraeronautic climbsbut instead areresigned tounpleasantnecessity.the radio towers sendtheir red […]

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  • by Tony Brewer Can’t trust you further than I can throw Wind dissipates your smoke (I hate white rabbits) between gravel We are that small & fit in a Ziploc Some chunks don’t break down choking on eternity Closed casket eyelids see when you can’t blink at nothing- ness specks of memory lodged in my […]

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  • by Gabriel Bates They come to the apartment complex almost weekly. Sometimes they’re here for that guy who beats on his girlfriend or because someone’s driving drunk and smashing into parked cars. Sometimes there’s a fistfight in the parking lot, or some drug addicts are trying to burglarize a tenant. There’s a whole number of […]

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  • by Marty Shambles i realized i wasn’t looking so hotwhen the lady at the mcdonaldsdidn’t believe i paid for the meal.it was just a moment’s hesitation;long enough for my fries to turnto cardboard; long enough to seethe accusation in her halting. i must have looked like warmed over garbage,with my hair wild and balding,my greying […]

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  • by Gabriel Bates I was talking to this young kid today at work, and he was telling me all about how we need to break out of this trap, that we should be following our dreams, how we weren’t made to do this, and so on and so on. I laughed and said, “Yeah, I […]

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  • by Marty Shambles gallons of queso dipcome running throughthe veins, wounds washed withbud lite as the thrashingplays out on honed pixels. listen to the wellplacedshotgun microphonespointed squarelyat the nexusof collision,where the interiority of one’spersonal violences arelaid bare with finelytuned human machineswho rut like rams andretire to stacks of moneythat cannot buy theirminds back. the leaves […]

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