Alex Z. Salinas lives in San Antonio, Texas. He is the author of WARBLES, a full-length poetry collection from Hekate Publishing (2019). His short fiction, poetry and op-eds have appeared in various print and digital publications, including in The Crossroads Magazine, and he serves as poetry editor for the San Antonio Review. He holds an M.A. in English Literature and Language from St. Mary’s University.
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
Striving By Alex Z. Salinas
Alex Z. Salinas lives in San Antonio, Texas. He is the author of WARBLES, a full-length poetry collection from Hekate Publishing (2019). His short fiction, poetry and op-eds have appeared in various print and digital publications, including in The Crossroads Magazine, and he serves as poetry editor for the San Antonio Review. He holds an M.A. in English Literature and Language from St. Mary’s University.
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
Stephen. By John Doyle
Stephen’s everyone's friend.
Stephen looks like Rob Halford, but it's ironic -
his sociology friends laugh; Stephen - eating lentils
so everyone knows how right-on he is.
Stephen dated Amanda - it didn't last, but no-one's bitter -
Stephen’s everyone's friend. He told me call up tonight -
I even brought blank cassettes
so he could rip some Devendra Banhart for me.
Who the fuck is Devendra Banhart? I think.
The dead weight fog of cannabis
and pseudo-intellectual chatter warns me
from his door. I leave his illusion behind me
after knock number three; I go home and listen to Cedar WaltonJohn Doyle became a Mod again in the summer of 2017 to fight off his impending mid-life crisis; whether this has been a success remains to be seen. He has has two collections published to date, A Stirring at Dusk in 2017, and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018, both on PSKI's Porch.
Thursday, February 20, 2020
Note To A Fartist Fraud. By John Patrick Robbins
You sent me your books in some childish attempt to impress me .
Like some jilted lover who shows up at the bar with some transitional boyfriend in hand.
I wasn't impressed then by your words and I am far from impressed now.
Your dummy press run by some assholes in need of cash from another press are the one's I hold my sympathy for.
I hold no respect for neither of you .
But I was grateful for one thing.
I had just run out of toilet paper and now had something to wipe my ass with.
Although the quality truly was below my standards.
Nice try jackass !, better luck in your next life .
John Patrick Robbins : Is the editor in chief of the Rye Whiskey Review , Under The Bleachers , Drinkers Only and The Black Shamrock Magazine.
His work has been published by. Ariel Chart , Punk Noir Magazine , Piker Press, Blognostics , Red Fez , The San Antonio Review , The San Pedro River Review, The Blue Nib.
He is also the author of Sex, Drugs & Poetry By Whiskey City Press And Once Upon A Nervous Breakdown from Soma Publishing.
His work is always unfiltered .
Thursday, January 30, 2020
No One Wants Anything to Get Better. By Ryan Quinn Flanagan
no one wants anything to get better
and the more people that die, the better.
They will never tell you this.
Not in the papers and not in person.
You will only read it here because I am honest and wholly unattached.
A free agent left to dredge the waiting riverbeds.
They will pray and hold vigil and shed crocodile tears on camera
because that is what they are supposed to do.
Others that want that very same death and destruction
will affirm such a common empathy.
Probably invoke the will of some mysterious god
with a super church large enough to host the next Super Bowl.
Congregating later at a popular steakhouse
for something rare and bloody.
Something pink and seasoned
they can throw into the hungry mouth
at the end of an eventful day.
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly,The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Under The Bleachers, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.
Tuesday, December 17, 2019
Not Much . By Ryan Quinn Flanagan
You know the braggart,
the one who drinks half as much
as everyone else
and makes twice the noise,
back in the bathroom every three minutes
as though standing vigil over some
shaky deathbed ugliness
and if the relations are not in blood
or some trusted pavement burn equivalent,
what are we left with?
If the answer is not much,
I am good with that.
The clock
mounted there on the wall
like an unwanted sexual
partner.
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly,The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Under The Bleachers, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.
Sunday, December 15, 2019
Equinox By Alex Z. Salinas
In Coltrane’s
“Equinox,” his
Sax desperate
To slither out
Of Wittgenstein’s
Suicide bottle,
Yet Elvin Jones’
Drums protect
Earth from caving
In, McCoy Tyner’s
Piano satisfies
Like the meal my
Aunt treated me to
In grad school,
And on this bright
Cold morning
Same as night,
It isn’t fair I
Climb this hill
Alone, drag
My feet with
Knowledge you’re
Gone, still I
Zigzag to Coltrane
Up down around
The dead-end trail,
Perform for
Birds ‘n crickets,
Fly musicians
Crying chords
Of presence,
Survival.
Alex Z. Salinas lives in San Antonio, Texas. His full-length poetry collection, WARBLES, Is out now released by Hekate Publishing .
He is poetry editor of the San Antonio Review, and his short fiction has appeared in numerous publications online.
Thursday, December 5, 2019
Truth And Pavement Hurt. By John Patrick Robbins
He told me .
"Man the problem is your just much better at this everyone else."
The kid didn't understand the sacrifice I made getting to this point .
And I prayed he never would.
This was a hollow existence filled with jealous fools and false hopes.
Empty nights and enough vices to kill even the strongest man.
He admired my page and I admired his promise for something else .
I was bound for the crash.
Strapped in for certain destruction .
To be great at anything means to be alone amongst many .
I would take happiness over accolades any day of the week .
A life seemed far better than a legacy .
I rolled the dice .
And in secrets and shadows often confessed my regret.
Now I sit atop a mountain .
A fools king with the loneliest view .
John Patrick Robbins
Is the Editor-in-chief of The Rye Whiskey Review , Under The Bleachers, Drinkers Only and The Angel's Share Magazine.
His work has appread in.
The San Pedro River Review , The San Antonio Review, Piker Press , Ariel Chart , As It Ought To Be Magazine , Oddball Magazine , The Blue Nib , Punk Noir Magazine .
He is also the author of Sex Drugs & Poetry from Whiskey City Press and Once Upon A Nervous Breakdown from Soma Publishing.
His work is always unfiltered.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



