with our first release…

Roz Washington returns with a new collection of poetry ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, picking up where SUNLIFE left off. New destinations, new encounters both real and imaginary, varying phases of contemplation and a journey into a Bradbury-esque cosmos engineered by Jules Vernes. Take a walk on the wildside where even the most mundane can transport you into the most unexpected discourse through the eyes of not only Roz but alter egos…The Shrouded Gentlemen and Benny Butters.

It’s always a pleasure to see your friends succeed and as a publisher it’s always thrilling to observe a writer continuously hone and refine their craft.

Roz Washington is someone I’ve known for nearly a decade, meeting at a random poetry night at a downtown bar as he scattered poems on the floor with a larger-than-life swagger accompanying some staccato machinegun like words which were not there for the thrill of it but actually had meaning.

We formed a bond meeting each other at poetry readings here and there. Eventually Roz, left but of course we stayed in contact and when Dumpster Fire Press formed there was need to give this voice a venue. Hence, we collaborated on THE GRIND which led to various stints and VOICES FROM THE FIRE, ultimately leading to his solo debut SUNLIFE.

ALL THINGS CONSIDERED is a little different, whereas SUNLIFE was about a journey…this work is about the personal evolution beyond the initial journey transcending to a multifaceted soulful experience, demonstrating the journey never truly ends until you die or maybe even beyond.

Don’t worry we’re not going to get absurdly metaphysical. I want you to enjoy the experience of the read and form your conclusions as Roz himself would.

Roz Washington is what poetry should be… not just in style but in the art of being. A working-class gent, with a contemplative cosmic mindset who dares to exhibit a sense of humor and express it without fear unhindered by cultural norms as my friend and fellow poet would say… SUNLIFE!

Purple Haze

Inhale this mesmerizing clouds of euphoric condensation,

burn these inscriptions into your pores,

allow the spores into ya lungs,

thee inhaled clouds of an Earthly formula,

all natural,

I feel gleefully befuddled,

yet no liquid intoxication,

it’s that of a fumigating form,

my nostrils are spreading openly as I intake for this lovely liftoff,

it’s the taste of the generous 70’s,

bound by nothingness,

all is everything,

breathing seems limitless,

I’m on a plane of the Cirrus formations,

it’s so dissipating of the storms of Life,

this high is inexplicable,

such the taste of sweet lavender,

all of my troubles have been blown away in a whiff of seconds, as gaze upon this scenic gesture from the symphony of the sky,

I’ve exposed myself to the Love absorbed from this aerial experience, at the expense of simply holding my head up optimistically and taking a deep breath…

Breathe this natural growth of waking from violet dreams to walking about the terrain with the aura of a blissful magenta,

slight shades of various differences passed around from hands to hands of interpretations,

we’re all of a variety of paths of puffing on our profound purposes of investing purchases to invite the positivity into our prosperous futures envisioned…

Pass that please…

Parallel Serenity

The art of sincere sensuality,

it has been of a lost one due to selfish satisfactory endeavors,

lack of open-minded conversations,

so many retreat from compelling sensations of reciprocating touches of various regions of the human skin,

fear of entangled soulwaves that vibrates the mind to an uncommon tingle that produces that nourishing rush,

yet these many desire this natural high that creates nostalgic actions of build or destroy…

This merging to a close proximity can supplant euphoria for numbness if the pores of those beings are at an all with each other,

no external substances necessary,

full interpersonal,

to the point of when the eyes lock,

all sexual energy from the induced hormones are coursing and the apparent perception of surroundings is just an ignored void of just surrounding matter….

Why deprive yourselves of such deserved courting?

Are we destined as humankind to not be as loving through evolution?

I share my thoughts of this because I’m all for a revolution against this stingy trend of not performing acts of Parallel Serenity…

Only between us,

this peep show is grandiose,

we’re unleashing our animalistic thoughts,

lashing eye contact,

wicked speeches of moisture and sexual hysteria,

fingertips gliding contours ravenously,

let the gravity work it’s magic from our physical exercises,

I aim to tantalize those secret corners of yours,

arriving eruptions induced from mutual touches of shadowing Souls,

as we’re both blindfolded,

our intuition guides our dirty gestures,

so tasty as our senses are heightened from these stolen moments,

this perspiration is of the intensity of coal crushed to a diamond,

the value is priceless,

this entanglement is the nicest,

climbing to a plateau of peaks as we’re fully equipped to create oceans of pleasure to swim through,

diving deep so the pressure collapses those walls of inhibitions, this bombardment we’ve engaged into has rendered us a loss of words to speak upon…

The Shrouded Gentlemen

A Stare into the Ocean

She’s a silhouette,

a created shadow by the setting Sun,

looking for a peace to remain,

yet this world is of a different demeanor,

she holds her place in the warm sand,

a long stance,

she admires the drawn-out glimmer of light,

as the solar body touches the ocean,

she rejoices inside,

knowing this day was done by her hand of humane deeds,

knowing the Moon will rise to play with her soul and reward her with uninhibited thoughts,

such a stillness to be regarded,

adhered to the time of the setting,

she bounds herself with a positive shielding of the magnificent glow that’s setting,

as we watch and admire her true bond with the moody ocean,

she admonishes in a way of a mute saying words in minimal body language,

gauge her tone of nothingness as an everything, she would Love you as you come into her circle,

be honest or the waters can get malevolent,

yet she is not of tumultuous conversations,

she resides in the mindstate,

as she gazes with meditating eyes

here stands a being, serene with fulfilled energy…

By the balance of the tightropes of Life, I blissfully glide to the horizons of my hemispheres

here’s some wonderful thoughts I’ll place in the sky,

clouds of Chocolate Tai inhaled,

I’m glistening her Soul with this sensual verbatim,

reclining a tasteful Satin Red sofa,

a glint of Moonlight reflects from her liquid trickle of her inner thigh,

supple breast spots flutter before my optics,

I feel omnipotent,

what an intense pressure that’s laying upon me,

it’s a heavy Blue gravity of friction that’s sparking a sparkling,

I’m a wordsmith,

she’s a focused reader,

connection points to the apex,

thin threads severed to thresholds of bountiful layers thoroughly,

I’m quilting her daily basis with a moment of a fruitful escape,

draping delicate sheets of Black silk about her tantalizing epidermis,

her elegant pores are opening,

my fingertips are permeating,

warming strawberry flavors seeping from her canal,

undeniably a cross-section of mixed positions,

sweet sugar of glossy lips is the palate I desire from merging of our mandibles,

a pouring consistency,

creams creating everlasting dreams,

plush ripened Peaches so barely fuzzy,

I’m so admiring the rhythmic squeezes,

mutual pleasing,

peeled sprays of Oranges misting is the proper equivalent,

inertia to her labia,

my Science of Physics is prevalent,

Her Chemistry is phenomenal,

what a sultry blend by serendipitous art…


we have landed..

Roz Washington is a poet, hip-hop scientist, a culinary wizard, lover, healer and man of many existential universal roles.  The author of Sunlife, a contributor to The Grind, Voices From the Fire, Octopi From the Sky and Bedroom Anatomy Lessons.

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.

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