I wrote a new poem. I want to share more of my stuff with you guys. Cut out the litmag middlemen. Enjoy!
Punk Rock is Over, Thank God
by Alfonso Colasuonno
she talked about green anarchy
and punk rock music and
nintendo gamecube and
wasn’t sure if she was a
punk or a hippie
maybe she threw
red paint on her
but she didn’t eat meat
but she blew trees
i remember she blew trees
and had pet roaches
and she went to school
in Olympia but I never asked
her if they all fuck the same
she wasn’t Courtney
and they’re gonna bitch about
this poem having a bunch of
pop culture references and
pass this one over and joke
about it but fuck them
and I’m gonna bitch about
them calling it pop culture
and I’ve never been to Olympia
and I’ve never thrown a javelin
but I’ve been mistaken for a Greek
and they’re killing an Arab
somewhere with U.S. bombs
and we take our smoke breaks
and talk about green anarchy
because we aren’t worth shit
we’re all talk, no action
aren’t we? are we?
college is over
and she still won’t quit
usually, that’s not how these things go
one of us becomes a politician
even when we talked shit about them
one of us becomes an entrepreneur
even when we talked shit about them
one of us becomes a small business owner, a weird shop, but a business
a mother, overprotective, like our mother, right, but not
even when we talked shit about mothers
and business and everything
one of us dies
because how punk rock of us
one of us goes somewhere else
because transit and we talk about Dylan
and gang of four and Ivanka was at the wedding
of a girl I used to know and by know I mean date
and by date I mean the modern sense of the word
as in watching the office for an hour
and then kissing, her lead, and then fucking, her lead
and then falling asleep to some old Hitchcock film
and Ivanka was at a wedding in page six with some
yellowing paper memory of a girl and her sister
and ten years later
how much has changed
when one talks about riding across the country
in a hippie van
the other about art
I’m just bored
how punk rock
punk is over, thank god
good and dead
but as for me,
not quite inside
weren’t they supposed to entertain us?
isn’t that in our mutual interest?
johnny ramone voted for nixon
and moe tucker is in the tea party
and exene is to the right of ted cruz
you can’t satisfy the editors
you can’t satisfy the punks
but you can kill a little something
day by day
5-10% Of the many submissions of poetry, short fiction, and non-fiction that we receive at Beautiful Losers Magazine, only around 5-10% of them are accepted for publication. If that sounds competitive, it’s because it is; and many literary magazines are actually quite a bit more difficult to get into than Beautiful Losers Magazine.
With that in mind, I’m proud to introduce a new concept to The Literary Game. Inside A Publisher’s Mind is going to be a running feature detailing the rationale behind the poetry, short fiction, and nonfiction that we’ve accepted at Beautiful Losers Magazine. While every publication has their own unique style, it is my hope that this can shed a little light on some of the core qualities of excellent literature and help writers improve their craft. I hope you find this of help!
Without further ado, here’s why I accepted Erric Emerson’s Slick.
- Slick was consistent with the type of poetry that we publish. We’ve rejected a poetry submission from a poet who was published in The New Yorker. Credentials don’t matter to us, especially if a poet or other type of writer doesn’t send writing that is a fit for our magazine. Slick is edgy, literary, and accessible – exactly in line with the type of poetry that we publish.
- Slick was provocative. Lines like “When she came in my mouth, it tasted like a three-years-held / thank-you, / that sweet.” caught my attention. The entire poem was bold. Emerson didn’t dance around the sexuality intrinsic to this poem, he embraced it.
- Slick was exceptionally well-crafted. First, the basics: There were no typos, no grammatical mistakes, and no odd formatting, all of which turn me off because they indicate that either a writer doesn’t understand the basics of the English language, or that they don’t take their writing seriously enough to give it a proofread. Beyond the basics, Emerson showed that he wasn’t a novice through his strong use of imagery and the push-pull in the language’s subtlety. A less-skilled poet could easily have lost the artfulness of this poem and turned into a shock piece with little literary merit.
If you want to read Slick for yourself, just click here. If you’ve read Slick, what did you think?
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I’m psyched to have published seven of my poems with Zombie Logic Review, one of the best spaces for outlaw poetry on the Internet (and NPR approved!)
Check out my poems by clicking here.
I have a new poem up at In Between Hangovers. You can read Oral Herpes by clicking here. Thanks for all the love and support!
Tasha, the editor for In Between Hangovers, specializes in publishing underground poetry. A lot of the work she features is quite raw and edgy. It’s awesome to have had two poems recently published with In Between Hangovers.
You can click here to check out Manifest Destiny.
And click here to check out Tired of Torch Singing.
Of course, I suggest you check out many of the other great poets there too. I enjoy most all of the stuff they put out.
I have four new poems in Vintage Poetry. Vintage Poetry is a selective magazine run by Radek Ozog. They’ve featured some of the more prominent poets on the Internet, including Donal Mahoney and John Grey. Check my poems out by clicking here and explore the rest of the magazine afterwards!
Rusty Truck is probably the best journal online for punk rock poetry. The list of poets they’ve published is like a virtual who’s who of outsider poetry in the alternative presses online. I’m psyched to publish a poem with them. Check it out by clicking here.