Some things to know about Charlie

While i am here & before i exhaust you with today's Charlie poem, i want to say that Tim Miller at Underfoot poetry has asked me to be a guest editor, so i am scouting poets. If you'd like 6 poems published, send me 8 to along with a bio, & a paragraph explaining …


A grim poem from the Charlie Malurkey cohort of capers & general peculiarities. In short, Charlie reads prophecies in the pubic hair that arranges on his bathroom floor, taking it to be a message from Godly God. Sorry, so sorry. Body-Hairomancy Last night he bothering the audience with messages him got from Godly God, It …

Sheathed in prophylactic | body & conscience

It may appear that i am a Neo-Luddite proselytizing an impending apocalypse of human consciousness as it becomes absorbed into the devices sold it by the great Silicon Overlords (Overloads?). But i am not, really. i am not religious, though may be along the lines of what Shelley said (as i seem to remember he …


You may remember Charlie's misadventure with the Jesus Army. Well, after a long trek from the back beyond, this happens...   ***** A flashiness baulbed in the grabby night a reference point the very least ¬—a snow globe full of fall-out rather than synthetic snow (at last). After low periods of him down in the …

pregnant with all of god’s alter egos.

i read one of Zoha’s poem in Noble Gas Quarterly, & the pulse of their thump was felt, she has that rare ability to write lines like

my rage screams the dark
to life, phoenix
fury imported
from the same land my chains were
shipped from.

which are so full of strength & energy they almost break from my laptop scream & choke me with their power.


From Gwen to Zorya, closer and closer
to home but always a white breath
away, defiant
breath away; you put your one desi foot in and you take your
blasphemous, illegal foot
out and you shake
this conflict of identity about and that’s
what never belonging
is all about, always
half too much.

Sun-whole passing for green crescent if
she keeps her face smooth and
her dupatta low enough to hide the resistance
and the rainbow,
catastrophic awareness set to a flicker that won’t attract any moth-boys – ashes
to ashy,
fetishization to dust – but
the flare of my rage screams the dark
to life, phoenix
fury imported
from the same land my chains were
shipped from.

came riding foreign aid and
led the coup against my rights. Belief was
bearded and demanded
my kin slay my kin and I
watched faith grab her children and run

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god soliloquy

This is the last of the revised sonnets, from here on out it'll be new sonnets. god soliloquy When young & waif like with a library, i thought, without the help of any books, about particles organized by seeing, the actions of unconscious design, detecting indecisiveness in roundabout ways, the up-until the observation starts— & …