Even when Death inhabits a poem, he does not own it. He is a squatter. In fact, Death owns nothing. – Todd Moore
Joyce in Washington sometimes you can see her breasts and they were nice even at 60 a leopard skin print slip showing through a slit skirt wrapped tight around a good figure like pin up girls of her day and Continue reading Joyce in Washington & Two other new poems by Jeff Bagato
This Drifting Into Air, Alive There’s only so much a man can do, holding off starvation with a weakened hand, his gimp leg steaming like pirates boiling in their midday rum, hot from the battle of Maracaibo, the city they Continue reading Four new peoms by Jeff Bagato
Cosmic Convenience Store Ouija contacts a UFO shouting across the galaxy about healthy meal plans based on science— “Don’t forget your coupons! Think of the money you’ll save on grocery bills and gasoline— the fastest way to melt belly fat— Continue reading Cosmic Convenience Store / The Clover Trick / Discount Radio by Jeff Bagato
Ghost in the moment of a universe without man Ghost seeps out dead blood to begin savage exploitation of the virtual mind, like the question that pierces the heart of the president of a political party— a damnation, humping a Continue reading Three new poems by Jeff Bagato
All People Bird lady poops, the street gray under her ass all people— saxophone and car lock horns— the street crosses you back— did that cabbie wave course I’ve got a ticket, looka— see here— I’m an old man— my Continue reading All People by Jeff Bagato
El Camino City That’s the car— when I was in the suburbs drinking high school beer in the Ground Round—if I were to run I might at least get to the 7-11 When I was at home, looked out my Continue reading El Camino City by Jeff Bagato
The Money Men Are Coming Indivisible, the good soldier arms around Death in the jungle, lords of creation searching the underbrush for Provo’s Privy— the Duke left it right about here— not as easy as it once was to find Continue reading The Money Men Are Coming by Jeff Bagato
Leather Medicine Somebody in black snuck up on John Wayne and slipped him a Viagra—goddamn if he didn’t jump to attention like Green Berets come back for one of their own, good soldier roaring through the jungle with a machete Continue reading Leather Medicine by Jeff Bagato
King of the Witches The marksman senses the time is right. Bulls charge with lightbeam horns through a crossroads game and try barely to miss each other; with a bullet I could panic this long line of bulls into jagged Continue reading King of the Witches by Jeff Bagato