Punk Monk Press/Magazine

Yesterday, it rained a lot. The meaning of things often escapes me.  I left my thoughts on the table before going to bed. And then I had bad dreams. The rain cooled the air, and the wind is coming  in by the window. There was rain falling in the apartment during the night.  Next week it will be very hot again I think.  I was sick last week, I am taking some medicine,  I'm feeling a little better.  I hope you're okay? I mean, I guess where you are,  no one will bother you anymore. --Ivan de Monbrison

Hey, punk monk fam! Thanks for sticking with us this long.  Last year, we celebrated our ten-year anniversary, and when I say "celebrated", I mean, "forgot."  Hopefully, I'll remember this one!  Punk Monk Magazine houses the weird, strange and wonderful. The misfits. The healing. The hurts.  Now, I am very very very excited to announce that Punk Monk is expanding into a chapbook press, with plans to expand even further into full-length publications, including anthologies.  This press will be DIY af. Royalties will be fair. Distribution will be via an online store on our website here and zine/arts fairs.  The press will be seeking volunteers- stay tuned!  The press will be open to submissions after its official launch in July, though we have preemptively solicited chapbooks from three very talented creatives, and will announce those titles on the official launch.  Expect gradual changes to our Twitter and this website, including our name/URL. ...

Shar walked down the same road every night; the third street light always flickered though never went out, and inevitably something would be rustling in the trash cans in front of Ms. Monroe's house. Tonight was colder than the night before and tomorrow would be colder still, but Shar refused to cover her hollow clavicles; the space between the top of her black boots and the bottom of her jeans shorts was exposed to the night air. She resisted shivering, though no one was around to see her. It was a matter of principle. She was tougher than that, tougher than a little Chicago wind, tougher than Clark or Will or that rat fucker, Tommy Lee. The keys between her fingers occasionally clinked together as she walked, a musical accompaniment to her uneven stride. It was a two-mile walk home from the library each night. Though, looking at her, most wouldn't think "librarian." She'd heard all of the insults and assumptions, but librarian wasn't one of them. Tattooed ar...

My best friend’s parents warned him about being a garbage man The customer is always right Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping; they called it opportunity   It requires a certain kind of mind to see beauty in a hamburger bun   Do you want to spend the rest of your life flipping burgers? Do your damn homework   It’s a good starter job until he graduates Just a little spending money    Open up another register   The average employee age for fast food workers is 27 years   You have a family to support   It’s not rocket science   You don't deserve $15 an hour to flip burgers   We support our frontline workers   It’s easier to collect unemployment than find a job nowadays   Don’t let lack of workers become the next pandemic   Where’s my Filet-O-Fish We’re gonna starve you back to work whether you like it or not --Josh Crummer