*strong language content warning*
we wish
fever dream ‘cause I don’t get laid in real life virgo somehow in my room fung-shuis the space presents a plentitude of multicolored condoms cast aside we don’t care we take each other inside atomic level equilibrium these are the unstable molecules of dreams penetrating each other’s eyes oceans and nocturnal skies crashing intricate ink on her body moving freeze frame thumb on her lip somehow we’re both begging for something in silence equally stained equally cleansed with a paradise kiss virgo ascends capricorn down low goat and virgin entwined I might rob a bank for her mourning thoughts cityscapes decay the necropolis crumbles sometimes home just becomes another mausoleum what if we abandoned cemetery grounds? what if we acknowledged stardust angels and demons… just to touch the earth? an outdoor amphitheater instead of stones and ghastly statues we had trees and the winds blew breezes splintered by branches atmospheric impression of bodies reminded of you vibrations along the skin stirring memories then there’s your voice solar ray presence a phantom hand presence on the shoulders maybe heaven can be a place on Earth where no one has truly departed Communion Sharing this meal Knives over forks Forks over knives bloody cracked feet from the long walk home from freezer warehouse to freezing streets bus stops running past 11 another ten-hour day decided to treat myself frozen pizza pepperoni flaky croissant crust garlic powder day and night wasted keep one light on heat down low four bites in stomach shrank wages of precarity we share our meals alone exhausted and worn Hollywood Land the winner is… woke up dead belly ache sweats throbbing shoulder pain inflammation in a shrinking kidney babies on fire in Ukraine bullets in cats and dogs doom scrolling news- jilted algorithms social media- impersonal friends cinematic ceremony burned-out star calls for ZELENSKYY smelts his Oscar Zelenskyy’s got a war and genocide to abate Hollywood Land needs his strange-love appearance a wealthy man slaps another wealthy man for insulting his wife coked out tears consoled by Macbeth you can see why the prince isn’t so fresh anymore and why everyone hates Chris social fabric receding disparity increasing the glamorous dead need constant resurrection even amidst a world on fire crisis Hollywood can go fuck a narcissist’s ass giving blowjobs to fascists and neoliberals alike Catfish Catfished by a crossdresser using his sister’s pics tells me “I’m just like my sister, only you can cum in me.” “Not really.” I don’t come to him distracted by a screen peyote and vision quests I start talking about shamanism the masculine and feminism combined in other cultures to undertake these transcendent journeys he hands an odd-looking pipe we smoke meth rancid chemical taste brain like cloud ego struck spinning silent dark talking about identity and existence displacement of genuine evolution I had just lost my child presumably a son touching hands in the ether impotent exiled from the realm of the carnal toward the valley of desolation
Mike Zone is the Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press, the author of Shedding Dark Places (almost), One Hell of a Muse, A Farewell to Big Ideas and Void Beneath the Skin, as well as coauthor of The Grind. frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl. His work has been featured in: Horror Sleaze Trash, Better Than Starbucks, Piker Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, Outlaw Poetry and Cult Culture magazine.
Fevers of the Mind 
Lovely, which seems an odd adjective for this painful, intimate vulnerability, but that’s what comes to mind. Love.
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