Punk Monk Press/Magazine

I’m on a lot of drugs  by which I mean  the world spins  incessant as a fly  hovering around our jalapeno poppers I’m joking though I don’t eat anything that’s breaded or go out in public anywhere featuring a screen for the staring We are all at work  whether sleeping or cutting logs  we are at work  I bolted from the dynamic after learning Ellen got mauled at work  while beginning surgery on a pit-mix Everything’s fatal  if you didn’t know Everything’s fatal No world’s an exception Dollar dollar bill etcetera,  the world is collapsing.  The world is a funny place composed of compounds.  Fusilli drags through our days.  A bluish ruin takes place and I itch incessant.  As an abandoned anaphylactic shock  I recommend none go forward.  (but what about the drugs?)  (no drugs!  screams the water slide.)  Some new object goes to war with our civilian tastes.  All amasses.  What isn’t abrasive is suspect.  A certain amount  (of salt) is required to go on inside of preposition day.  Deadly a

No-one remembers the juicy parts.  Where did my water break? Was the gush like on TV, in public on a stalled subway car? Did I shit during delivery? How many relatives watched my cunt's open mouth scream free a baby? How can that image dissolve in time's acid? Feces on the floor? Red face in a hole stiched fresh in a spare room while walls remained clouds, and the needle was a pal who whispered "Sleep it off. No big deal." --Quinn White 

Growth and Healing A Beautiful Pain A lonely dance in the rain Only to begin again. Ever changing chaos Within my heart gets lost. Growth and Healing Truly is appealing Dance with me my friends The means justify the ends Infinite choices Together they can hear our voices It is our world to create Thank you to those who demonstrate. --Cyn Dee Adams

This piece was originally performed on March 22 @ Cha Island, as part of our local Speak Your Peace event! It was grand. You shoulda been.  You Fire Flame A circle Who are you? What are you? Robes of Red A hum, The Meditation Headdresses of Fuchsia, Indigo, Reminiscent of AN ART FORM Ships that Scream WAVES Chains A people running North, Cold rocks, A new world... Surrounded by Sun Who are you? What are you? Synergy Harmony Melding ONE. --Alison Clarke