Introducing the final Thirteen Myna Birds flock of 2019!

Introducing the final Thirteen Myna Birds flock of 2019!

Happy Holidays, whatever that means to you! Hopefully it involves oodles of poetry! 🖤

This flock is like a strange and scary and oddly misshapen stocking stuffed with mutant wings of poetry by Holly Day, Howie Good, Kristin Garth, Davide Nixon, Thomas E. Simmons, and Gary Beck!

Then at the bottom of the flock are three creepy doll poems by Daniel Snethen, from his PEDIOPHOBIA poetry chapbook, coming very soon from Blood Pudding Press!

"The morning sun is the beginning of my offensive day - The town, the river, the woods just kept on screaming - The whole downtown was sinking an inch a year even as downtown properties continued to rise in value - just like the perfect baby that somehow came out of me - I need more holes always surrounding me - spitting expired spirits, and old smoke in young lungs - open throated barely legal ghosts - software insertion - little bouquets of truth are buried - watching nothing, dreaming of nothing - When robots develop a sense of the macabre They’ll have approached human equivalency - Thunderstorms are people - broken contortions - with breathing machines hooked up - Something rising unbidden out of the dark - You’re moving away rather than moving toward something. I can't be sure if you’ll ever come back."

Partake HERE - https://13myna.blogspot.com/

The NEW July Flock of Thirteen Myna Birds is HERE!

he stumbled into his “vanishing box” - decomposing beneath unbroken skin - ghosts walk upside-down across the ceiling - salivating over evidence - decayed buildings - the crazy in her twinkled - the tip into the fleshlight - turned up it floats faster - it’s mutiny you know to be human inside of this sex show - she wanted him to feel intimidated and to feel as insignificant as she did

The July flock of Thirteen Myna Birds is HERE - https://13myna.blogspot.com/

Offering new art and poetry by MISH, Kristin Garth, Jennifer Behling, James Croal Jackson, John Grey, Sonia Beauchamp, Gary Beck, and Robert Beveridge! 

Dive in if you dare! 

Monster magnolia by MISH

The NEW June Flock of Thirteen Myna Birds has Arrived!

Mother-in-Law's Tongue by MISH

"I am the rusty fence wrapped around the graveyard - all week the rainsoaked pavements have been white with second-hand sunshine - treading your breath - I watch you fly off without me - I was supposed to be your island not the sea you drown in - Pain receded to an ache, then to nothing worth noticing - My heart is full of dust - The wet was water, was pus, was blood, was stink - I should never have told her that I wrote any poetry."

The new June flock of Thirteen Myna Birds has arrived, offering art by MISH and poetry by Ann Kestner, DS Maolalai, Michael A. Griffith, and Brittany Sabatino!

All HERE - https://13myna.blogspot.com/

Happy Poetry Month from Thirteen Myna Birds! The NEW April Flock Is HERE!

Happy Poetry Month from Thirteen Myna Birds!

This NEW April flock of Myna Birds features Latif Ba, L.B. Stringfellow, MISH, John D. Robinson, Nicholas Hayes, Daniel G. Snethen, Alexander P. Garza, and Felix Purat.

"In the dream, I am on the dark side - In manacles chafing ashy ankles and nails like wild flamingos - Here the dead live close to the living - I am troubled by the heaviness of being - I know it’s temporary, just like everything - all of it in a fifth of vodka or in the dizziness of speech - One who’s svelte becomes lumbering and oafish - He licks his teeth frantically trying to see if they are loose - with space to fill with truth - the spider-webby veins of gravity and time - where the leaves of trees become the dead wings of birds - A web of brain matter, rummaged through - That’s your gift? - the slop of undigested graves - how they seem to construct themselves - It’s astounding: how little time people spend with themselves - She's empty, running on empty - Just cold dead eye balls - gazing down aisles lined with radiant bottles of single malt whiskey, Barbadian rum, vodka white as snow - A sparrow is trapped in the terminal above in caged frustration its wings express a message - Crouching on the stoop, he becomes a gargoyle only to become stone. How else does one become permanent?"

HERE - https://13myna.blogspot.com

The March Flock of Myna Birds has arrived!

One day before March is upon us, the March flock of Thirteen Myna Birds has arrived!

Offering new poetry by Chelsea Margaret Bodnar, Deirdre Gainor, Steve Sibra, Mike Croghan, Catfish McDaris, Susan Mahlburg, and Robert Okaji

two doors lead into hell - a sunken corpse lost in the darkness - a wildflower drooling blood - Dead and almost dead - A lone mouse cruised through the rooms every evening at dusk - Concealer of tinsel and convex mirrors - careless in its dips and swaggers as the voltage sang beneath and above it - did I dream there were words?- why is there an old photo in the back of my sock drawer? - whispering of the forbidden - The overgrown and tongue-speaking night - and gumbo with sweet human meat - obscure the chained dogs - the stakes were steep for me - My horoscope of dirt - Everything that we love -- it grows old, withers and dies.

HERE - https://13myna.blogspot.com/