Thrust a screwdriver into the electrical socket


Joshua Martin







Mad monks

dripping corner stores

in lost horizons

on the frownland


     engulfing splinters

          as a final meal

     to be mused

          in an attitude to research


the stray legumes that face masks bring to the table & not w/o a settling into a flashing suitcase prosthetic arm waving wildly until the curtain drops from sinking tulips in meadows meddlesome like carp & to believing the war machine & to vomiting centrifugal chunks of plastic









               as you are as you deceived

               the rapid climbing spider monkey

               whose gate of colorful stampeding

               lies among limitless gills


& a flaying sink

of grotesque wonder

the bread

of misplaced luck


     or a Pierre lunaire puppet master

     relationship vis-à-vis

     a George Washington

     cherry tree skunk


& blossoming spleen to the heart of chaotic glee the only approximation of a prideful hobo in torn ligaments








not the only gas variety at play in the poison membranes


                    of the walls surrounding

                    like citadel briefly invaded

                    & then unjustly defended

                    by bootlicker extraordinaires

                    w/ their faces reddened

                    to the point of unsustainable disgust

                    as if a barracuda

                         as if a wrench

                         to settle the arms

upon for one last howdoyoudo

     before collapsing altogether into ashes







You may want to live in a gasmask after all is said & done especially since a moonless promenade of salmon were pondering mass extinctions in spite of none of our efforts to prevent it & the immediate actions against charred remains could never justify our use of nuclear weapons just enough time has passed to have forgotten atrocities because you never understood a lemur or a sponge & then lasting as long as gristle you thrust a screwdriver into the electrical socket







From curriculum

advantages to monetized


all that a puddle


consumed all the good

it may have once done

& the concrete islands

had stuttering fits

& less than

equal to zero

for condensed

sexual positions

painful to reflect

simultaneous combustions

of semitransparent

gods plagues

& arthritic







     Oozing gene therapy

     as if that were a genre

     of musical drunkenness


     unseen until revelry

     imploded behind

     locked doors &

     common to the region


     known as an embarrassment

     to the hawks & sparrows

     & buzzards filled w/ bleach


     to reach the grinding wheels

     singing rapid choral dimensions


     as if a fiddle







Machine gun impulsive

sweater vest department

of the floorboards


drawing snails w/

chalk outline promises

beating against

the flagpole


enough to conclude

that you’ll never


tow truck drivers

or patriots

or the kidneys


not as long

as pools

of black rocks

filling the lack of

manufacturing ethics







To have judged the Jungian dancers unfairly

          may have been the fault of the horse tranquilizer ballerina

who stubbed big toe & froze in Margaritaville townhomes

          while babies climbed mountains

& pop of the block ate glass iron shavings

          & then dunked houseflies

& married accounting executives

          for the lip reading services







Magnetic & sullen


overcoming pocket

watch pebbles

to win

the tour de France


tho meaningless

like all the songs blurted

hollow & reeling

like blood that circles


insofar as a parakeet

could make a shoehorn

bend over

& take one

for the team









Joshua Martin is a Philadelphia based writer and filmmaker who currently works in a library.  He is the author of the book Vagabond fragments of a hole (Schism Neuronics).  He has had pieces previously published in Fixator Press, The Vital Sparks, Breakwater Review, Ink & Voices, The Free Library of the Internet Void and Paragraph Line.



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