Bill Marles… A Welfare Jerk Dot Com


A Welfare Jerk Dot Com

I’m a jerk dot com,
A jerk dot com.

Oh yeah, I’m a welfare jerk dot com.

I’ll jump on your back,
And ride through the streets on your power
With my arms round your neck

And you like a castle tower.

I’m a jerk dot com,
A jerk dot com.

Oh yeah, I’m a welfare jerk dot com.

My girlfriend rises before morning’s light.
Careful not to wake me,
She tiptoes off to fight

To pay my rent and feed me.

I’m a jerk dot com,
A jerk dot com.

Oh yeah, I’m a welfare jerk dot com.

Much later, I go out to play,
But I’m feelin’ tough,
A little rough.

Something’s not quite right.

I’m a jerk dot com,
A jerk dot com

Oh yeah, I’m a welfare jerk dot com.

Who will serve me today?
My social worker, my psychologist or that cute nurse?
Or will I wind up in the bar,

With my buddy driving me home in his car?

I’m a jerk dot com,
A jerk dot com.

Oh yeah, I’m a welfare jerk dot com.

I hate mixed races.
Hindus, Chinks, Japs, Niggers,
You can all go take a walk.

I’m the original WASP.

I’m a jerk dot com,
A jerk dot com.

Oh yeah, I’m a welfare jerk dot com.

I’m unhappy, a little blue,
Cause I got no money.
My honey don’t make enough. Don’t you dare laugh.
That ain’t funny!

Having no money, I mean.

I’m a jerk dot com
A jerk dot com
Oh yeah, I’m a welfare jerk dot com.


Bill Marles: I write poetry to express my feelings about issues that tug bother me. I take my work and perform it at any number of readings in the Vancouver, B.C. area. The reward comes when I connect emotionally with my audience. Publishing my poems is a relatively new endeavor for me.

Copyright © 2014 by Bill Marles









Tammy Gordon… Initiated Kiss


Initiated Kiss

There was a man
who was The Kiss
after a meal,
but not even dating.
Only one
earnestly fell in love;
a kiss to which
one utters, “WOW!”
blinding everyone’s
point of view.
They must kiss all the time.
Behind the ear.
Around the neck.
A little touch
here and there.
Initiation? By whom?
Is this for real?
This kind of kiss,
better than any before.
No one observes those lips.
It’s all a point of view.
Public display of affection –
extremely tight and thrilling.
Let them perform
so long, so hungry.
Private entertainers
competing against
mediocre sustenance.


Tammy Gordon is a mother, an animal rights activist, dramatic soprano, photographer, and a retired aerospace engineer. Some of her passions are ballet, swimming, horses, hiking, ham radio and emergency preparedness. She rescues dogs for Bichons and Buddies in LA, CA.

Copyright © 2014 by Tammy Gordon







Christopher Defeyter… Leather



I have so many miles on my boots.
Each one a memory of a moment,
Gone, gone that I cannot get back.
My life i have lived up until now and
The life I’ll live tomorrow is unsure,
Though these soles will surely tread.
Further into the miles of the future.
The colors will fade, the leather become rough,

And the stitches fail.

All the trials in this adventure of mine,
Have brought me joy, sorrow, and wisdom.
I’ve survived when I should not have;
I have won greatness and lost everything,
That wasn’t important, and I’ve learned,
What the important things are:
Not currency or clothes, not power or pride,
Not food in my belly nor shelter;
Only my boots.
And love


Christopher DeFeyter is a man who paints a world into words.

Copyright © 2014 by Christopher DeFeyter







Christopher Barnes… 24 Sponge


24 Sponge

With Tangy
Orange Filling
And Topped With
Dark Chocolate


Orange Flavour Filling (37%)
Syrup, As Sugar Solution
(Sugar, Water)
Orange Juice Concentrate (1%),


In 1998 I won a Northern Arts writers award. In July 200 I read at Waterstones bookshop to promote the anthology ‘Titles Are Bitches’. Christmas 2001 I debuted at Newcastle’s famous Morden Tower doing a reading of my poems. Each year I read for Proudwords lesbian and gay writing festival and I partook in workshops. 2005 saw the publication of my collection LOVEBITES published by Chanticleer Press, 6/1 Jamaica Mews, Edinburgh.

Copyright © 2014 by Christopher Barnes








Pattie Flint… Talking to my Brother About Drugs


Talking to my Brother About Drugs

he says he does drugs sometimes, at concerts and with his
girlfriend. she says it feels like falling thirty stories except you’re
never scared. secret laugh, sidenote. ecstasy is like coffee to
me: I have two kinds of special k for breakfast. my secrets are
his secrets but mine are worst; it must be cold living in my
shadow, little brother. someday we’ll smoke and talk about it


Pattie Flint is an uprooted Seattle native toughing it out in New England and spends her days as an editor at Medusa’s Laugh Press specializing in hand-bound books. She has been published in InkSpeak, HESA Inprint, Hippocampus and TAB, amongst others. She is currently working on her MFA at Cedar Crest.

Copyright © 2014 by Pattie Flint