This is standing up

Like a big glare 

Outside looking at the moon

Through the trees drowned out by the sky

Clouds shy from my six

This is fired from my hip

Call this cloud 9mm

Taking it past a show up

Out and off of my cliff

Swan cry as a dove dies

This is blood on hands

Like a rifle scoping to nowhere

Cuz we all die 

From afar cry

Soldier on with a wasted lifetime

This is loving hatred

Turning me into a monster 

A professional stalker

So keep this open

Like a heart that needs to beat

At your throat

We need to bleed

So reach in 

But what are you pulling out of this?


Love me or hate and re-rate it

Cuz I’m just illuminated

Shining lights down on what all of us our feeling!

So you better learn to fly

Cuz everything is burning hot

From underneath…

And i taste your watermelon

Cuz my tooth is sweet

You guard the point

And rise like the Phoenix

Nash of Steve

Let’s watch our Sun’s rise 

Before it retires

Shot clock that drops

Buzzzz–aaards circling

Air raid – are

So fly low

Cuz when you get high

You’re dulling the spear

Pickles are only good when dill

But you’re sweet

Fake and taste like shiiii

Cuz my motor… Mouth

Off from the opium 

From opinionated goat ropers

But it was such a wonderful feeling

I’m the ability to come to grasping

From your own vulnerability

Something you want to do

But scared to

So you cut yourself from my same cloth

But we’re not even close to the same

It’s fake

I’m hamburger

And you’re helper

And everything I say

Is straight through

One take


You take days to actually grasp

I spend 10 minutes writing this up

Cuz you feel me piece by piece

We’re both trash

Cuz we threaten violence with empty emotions

We hit each other with spoken threats

And I’m building up 

Such a cruel fountain

But I’m trying to build a mountain

This digging in like a mole hill

Cuz I’m a fish out of water

And tonight…I flound-her

And I see her face of destruction

She said don’t touch me

But hit me!

I said stand over there

And I know nobody puts baby into a corner

But I was a bitter spitter

Listen to me lie

Like a toxic wind blowing so intense

It knocks your bag off the boxing gym

Rat thrown to the sheep 

Turning into a wolf

With the bloodiest outcome

Stomping your throat at the kum n go

Yanking your chain at the pick n pull

Animating your tronics at the chukee cheese

Pizza places

 Writing this instinctive nature

On some hempless paper

With my hoodie cracker switch

Snap back destruction to loose

Poingent and double jointed

With a few voices 

Haunting around

Annoying noises

Has been the case I rest

From a has been perspective

View from the end of the night

Begining tonight

Fuzzy wuzzy was a freaking


He zero cares 

This is all up in the air

Somebody rescue me here

Drop a ladder from ya chopper

Im hanging out of church

Onto a Tabernacle

I’m reaching out by accident

You’re lifting me up like I was a purpose

And I’m way ahead

So while I am ..

I should end this, but how?

I can’t

Somebody write my alien feels up

For once

Cuz I’m relating

But nobody is relaying

But what do I expect

You couldn’t even help me sew this up 

Even my autocorrect is destructive.

Zig zagging in a wagon

Godzilla with a pencil

Even my good sounds evil

Spell it backwards


Published by Mike Zone

Mike Zone is the former Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press and managing editor of Concrete Mist Press. The author of Screaming in the End: Poems and Stories, Fuck You: A Fucking Poetry Chap, Shedding Dark Places (almost), One Hell of a Muse , as well as coauthor of The Grind and Razorville. A frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl. His work has been featured in: A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Black Shamrock Magazine, Horror Sleaze Trash, Better Than Starbucks, Piker Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, and Cult Culture magazine.

2 thoughts on “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Michael Lacy

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