gobbet press continues to spread the most important and uncompromising punks out anywhere through the release of Brad Liening's fantastic 

DEATH SALAD. Buy the book here.

Excerpts:

MY PEOPLE

Service revolver gag order. 

Gritty obelisk wheeze.

Dynamic trellis. 

Shunting droop.

People go home.

On TV wan iterations of TV. 

Vehicle for sex and loss redoubling.

More searing blues for mid-drifts 

And piercing trends.

Skinnier and skinner, 

Buckshot short of a winner 

But happily dimpled in thighs

Raked and bleeding.

Antlers on the roof

Of a winsome hissing room.

FEED

Revolution times the multiplicative

Kill box plus a decade yielding 

The most advanced video game

Making a billion, no sweat.

What luck for the dim undead. 

Grind out grease burgers for hours 

And what do you get. 

Heart disease stank in your pants.

Bus pulp makes its way into your bed

And becomes a way of life. 

Grim statistics on 24 hour repeat, 

Vampire tentacles for faces.

HOT TREE

Lunch date finale kills

Meat cutting jobs. 

If only new national anthems.

Hot tree

Calling your friends

Deep into checkbook hysteria.

Little seedling plagues 

Molten for the masses 

And furry huddling.

Inter-dimensional floor wax happening 

Deep in your VapoRub daydream.

The folks of Strange Cage have been kind & wise enough to clone a tiny mutant birthed by Gary J. Shipley and I named Flavored Apocalypse. Its offspring may be adopted here


Excerpts:

2 Poems

DEAD ART SHOW

This morning the messiah was resurrected then forgotten
Like a bathtub.
All of time is a black factory and birth
Music is disgusting.
Help me roll away inside a wall.

I was born but I need not to have been born.
That's my choice to let the shadows get me.
The only time I'm not tired is when evil smells.
You know I know me from long ago.
Help roll away the stone.

The landscape is pregnant with horses bashed by cinder blocks.
I faked them during the witches sabbath.
The avalanche bellybuttons landscapes titled in left fingers.
Sun-myths cockblock a very old staircase
Following the soul's contradiction.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF

I pay my art so well, it massacres fill-ins.
Yeah, all you twenty-something hotties comprehend
Deaths of notable animals is esophageal cancer.

From Leopardi comes a remedial no man's land.
From Peret comes mayonnaise ice ages.
Biological lifeforms wage sages too slow to load.

I swell my roots to reveal the twin beneath my skull:
Bohemia and bad sex and worse TV.
He bowls half a porcupine lip in my half-grave.

About me, there's not much to say.
I move through the world with an unearthly freedom from attachment
While belonging to the profound process of change.

9 Photographs

Not only is my friend Gary J. Shipley a brilliant & prolific writer, he's also a highly-skilled draftsman. An assortment of Shipley's visual buzzings called SHROUDS has just been published by the essential Asemic Editions organized by the equally vital Tim Gaze. Egads! Enough of this cocksucking. Buy the book here.


Excerpts:

6 Composites

3 Poems from Mask With Sausage @ gobbet