Dostoevsky
Takes a Selfie
By Clint Margrave
I’m not surprised to find him
in the underground,
but I am surprised to find him
in L.A.
He sits across from me
on the metro
in shorts and tennis shoes,
taking a selfie.
I want to ask him what he’s doing here.
Too much sun
for so much beard.
Then again,
as a writer of the dispossessed,
the clinically insane, the suicidal,
it just might be the place.
Take It Easy
By JOHN TOTTENHAM
I’ve never been to Heaven,
but I’ve been to Oklahoma.
Played For The Good Times
fifty times in a row,
then pissed on the jukebox.
Smeared my blood
against a white picket fence,
and left town.
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