Like APOCALYPSE NOW REDUX we got some more stuff for you from DFP…
first off VOICES FROM THE FIRE VOLUME 9
Still burning…VOICES FROM THE FIRE continues! Collecting poetry, prose and stunning visuals from the official Dumpster Fire Press, rolling e-zine VOICES FROM THE FIRE featuring wordsmiths and artists from here, there and everywhere in-between.
We will conclude the run to this ever popular series with Volume 12 in early 2023. It’s been fun but time to move on for now…actually burnout contributed to most of that…as for what the content entails…check out our latest entries from late May-late July…it’s easy, click on the VOICES FROM THE FIRE section of this site and scroll on through…pretty simple unless you’re from the Great Grand Rapids Circle Jerk and you’re unable to figure out anything that isn’t directly connected to your friend’s endeavors…LIVE LOCAL!
Next up we have the final chapbook from Editor In Chief Mike Zone…FUCK YOU: A FUCKING POETRY CHAP featuring stunning complimentary visuals by WORLD ON FIRE: PROPAGANDIE brain-child Paul Warren.
I lied…as Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press, I vowed never to publish my own book…I mean a book written by Mike Zone, edited by Mike Zone and published by Mike Zone…how egocentric can one get? All of a sudden I decided I wanted to circulate my work for free through various venues but first had to make proper goodbyes dropping truth-bombs left and right so please enjoy the 42 pages of poetry with stunning complimentary visuals by DFP heavy hitter Paul Warren. If anything, you’ll be saying “Fuck you” too to the way things are, were and are still trying to be in the era of Sixth Extinction.
Dance, dance, dance
Mad titans
the death of magik
Putin dance club
in Siberia
dance, dance, dance
THE HOT ZONE
Sixth extinction
U.S. Fantasy
I want to marry
Anne Sexton’s ghost
phantom Allen Ginsberg weeping
holding Walt Whitman’s sausages from the grocery cart
I just broke the other stockboy’s heart
Kissing- bad makeup
drag glitter bummed
baby gurl
“my god”
that phrase- MY GOD
MY GOD- humble thyself before thee
I need your assistance
Your restoration
Taken aback
Give me understanding
MY GOD- I ask thee, let me plead with thee
A self-serving prayer
I cannot comprehend my misery
Divine nor man-made
MY GOD- whom I own
Do not mock what is mine
Do not question nor conflate this narrative
My god and I are one
Reflective of one another
Made in his image
We are the divine face
Of the divine face
Every knee shall bend
Head will bow
Tongue shall break
MY GOD-
it’s just all too incomprehensible
Bad sex (Lipstick mirror redux)
Last night really pitch black taking us to a bleeding sky sun rise
it could have been the pot
or whiskey
possibly the beer
we played cards and watched documentaries on castles and the Spanish civil war
you always pulled out the weird toys in an effort to convert me
claimed I was too vanilla
you always wanted to bend over the bed with the windows open with subzero temperatures knowing my dick never quite worked right in the cold
it was mostly uncomfortable with you
the inside of your vagina overly pierced
like a razorblade suitcase
you’d choke me
slap me
call me a “fuck” or “son of a bitch”
discovered my temporary secret kink
mostly it was awful and kind of bad
rushed
but there were good nights
when one of us would get blackout drunk
only not to remember
you ever so gleeful “You wrecked my pussy! Let’s get breakfast.”
Only to pass out cross-eyed
denying the validity of my semi sober recollections
shortly after
only to pass out again
wanting to cuddle
when I awoke
there was that oh familiar lipstick message on the mirror
I’ve written about
So many times already
“Some poet
Can’t get it up”
It was a common problem
With you
With me
Guess it never worked out
quite right
true romance
kink and rage
not included
Understanding power
Sixth extinction
Fun Police on parade
fighting staged struggles
half a century old
you’ll never have ultimate equity
nor advancement
allow me my fun
love and chaos reigns
Dumpster Fire Press 