By:  César Augusto Cantú . Corn Pulse Twirling Spinal wave Decoded rings square Progressive loss of a tin spark Ineffable tidal clap remains in partial sight Cycled dragon spoon enhances sensorial spore road Recreation of constant growth Inverted slices Immersing Sound cone Snails Thoughts

By: Dina Darling . Personify me by the measure of arousal I can grant all men Just by the rapture of impurity and thought Call me a tease if you please Yet I can guarantee She will never be better than me My power intensifies Vibrates your skin My name will be the only one you scream I maintain equilibrium Otherwise my blood boils No other woman will walk in my foot imprints I will perish those who will attempt To wear a crown that I have...

By: Carlos Ganz . I am mankind, a dead guy walking, freedoms door locking, point blank BANG BANG CLICK CLACK change change, take that been bold, brown skin been sold, that shit been old, steel church been cold, steel bars been closed. I am mankind, a democratic leader with a false tone, the falling gabble to a broken home, the hungry animals on a golden throne, supreme being white man alone, the new world the brown man roam, the...

By: Debbie Christoforatos & Carlos Ganz . Revolution. Rebellious path to Evolution. Ideals formed from hyperactive braincells In need of equality and freedom judgment clouded by selfish fog blinding the eye of innocents and uneducated, deserving so much more than what they’ve been promised. Promises dazzle when painted the right color, But color fades in time, revealing true medium; it’s natural base. The root of all evil...

By: Bradley R. MacNeill . Hello, bordello. Give me your lust, slavery, every extent of your debauchery. Your dolled-up girls, I want their sex; the leather, lace, and latex. Money is no object, so flow the wine; stand your ladies in line. I’m a gentleman stuck in a broken marriage, but tonight I am a beast without a leash. I am thirsty for moist lips. I am horny; savage. I am starving for the company of a soft face, so let’s...

By: Gregory Leigh . My eyes are gleaming, At the orchestral screaming, From the ladies of the night in White Chapel; The taste of a scream, Is luscious and obscene, Like an old witches poisoned red apple; The aromatic breeze, Carries on it sweet jasmine; Swirling amidst the trees, To the cobblestone chasm; Upon this stone deathbed, Doesn’t lie the broken princess; Of lost virtue, And dead orchids blooming; Again on the breeze, A...