Punk Monk Press/Magazine

Visceral Uterus is launching a lifestyle magazine that's spiritually-conscious yet punk AF. Social responsibility is punk AF. Positivity is punk AF. Kindness is punk AF. Self-care is punk AF. We're seeking photography, art, poetry, fiction, articles, reviews, and questions for our advice columnist who offers a hard hit of tough love. Interested columnists should query with their suggested topic. Send all submissions to visceraluterus@gmail.com with the heading DRUNK MONK SUBMISSION. Paste in the body of the email, as per usual. The magazine will get its own email in time. Be patient, will ya? Any poetry/stories submitted to Visceral Uterus will also be considered for publication in the magazine. Extra points for lifestyle columnists in the Toronto area! Lots of love, C E Hoffman

I look for the apocalypse in your eyes find comfort in its presence. You are always prepared for the end, always have an exit plan the perfect argument for ending it all. I am an eager apostolate at your knee learning the paths one must take to break free from damnation, from love. My own eyes are a roadmap of buried condemnations, so I always keep them closed when we kiss. --Holly Day

--Mirac Tosun

At first, it was a halo but then it really got to you. --John Grey

They don't all bite. Some squeeze or swallow whole. Some spit. And it's a labyrinth, not a maze: go straight long enough and you're out. Not that I can leave. Women can look at me, but most are too petrified. So they stone me instead. When I'm lonely, I talk to the statues. We dress up and hold court. And masques. And trials. Sometimes, I pluck one out and sing while it dies, fixated, helpless, sanguine, cradled, alone. And to think, I was a good girl from a nice family before he raped me. Now I'm a war criminal. Or maybe heat-seeking missiles, holstered, armed, and ready to strike like ice picks to the eye, severing vital connections, fragmenting consciousness, and devolving the higher mind to its reptile origins are the real weapons of mass destruction. --David Schwab 

--Renee Jadischke

I AM MORE THAN A WHORE  GIVE ME BACK MY MONEY  FUCK YOU  I NEED HELP DON’T TOUCH ME  I SAID NO  I’M SORRY OKAY  I’M ALLOWED TO MAKE MISTAKES STOP BEING SO MEAN  I AM A HUMAN BEING HOW COULD YOU FORGET ME WHY DO YOU HATE ME WHY DO I CARE  …WHY DON’T YOU CARE MORE. -- C E Hoffman