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.