Bootlicker (a poem)

Do not mock me! Do not! Do not! For I am a man, And this my woman And we be not beasts, damn straight! We’re just monsters, deplorable sexists enabling fear monger flag waving. But stop being so mean to us! We have feelings to. But we ain’t afraid of no snowflakes, that’s why IContinue reading “Bootlicker (a poem)”

February 23, 2017

Work work work work work. More important that I eat, Than you feel welcome.

January 23, 2017 – V

In too deep in hell, or have I gone to heaven? Only time will tell.

January 23, 2017 – II

I have been tourist, patriots of capital. Pride in rhetoric. 

January 23, 2017 – I

Losers never win, That is what makes them a loser. President Loser.

Let’s All Cop to Something Unpleasant,

I think it is no secret to the more informed us that the words of Hamlet’s mother have never been more true. “Methinks they do protest too much.” The quicker any one is to defend why they are not sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic or etc. is most blatantly trying to cover their inner bigot, whichContinue reading “Let’s All Cop to Something Unpleasant,”

January 19, 2017

Not my President. Not even my TV star, NOT MY PRESIDENT.

January 16, 2017 – III

A rose in Winter, the best way to describe hope, a rose in Winter.

January 16, 2017 -II

Wake me up sisters, my brothers abandoned me, and I want to learn.

January 23, 2017 – IV

“But peace, and love, and…” Be quiet. Love can be tough. Don’t cry for Nazis.

Donnie’s Daddy, A short story by James J. Jackson, Jr.

Donnie dropped the comb into the gold plated bathroom sink again for what felt like the billionth time. “FUCK!” Donnie screamed in frustration. Donnie hated how the stubby fingers on his tiny hands could never get a firm grip on anything they tried to hold. He fished the comb out of the sink bowl andContinue reading “Donnie’s Daddy, A short story by James J. Jackson, Jr.”

The Burden of Empathy : Chapter 10

Chapter 10 I didn’t awake until 9:40, well after my parents had awaken.  I’m sure my substance consumption from the night before played a part.  I still had no problem repeating it.  I popped and snorted the last of the pills and smoked at least a gram of the dope and a bit of hash. Continue reading “The Burden of Empathy : Chapter 10”