Mikel K

by Horror Sleaze Trash on August 28, 2016

lk

Mikel K is a poet and memoirist living in Atlanta, Ga. K was voted best Atlanta Poet, the last three years in a row, by readers of Creative Loafing, Atlanta’s weekly newspaper. He has a BS in English with a minor in Journalism from Georgia State University. He drank his way out of Florida State University one class short of a business degree.

Poetry by Mikel K has, recently, appeared in: Subtle Tea, Inbetwen Hangovers, Your One Phone Call, Indiana Voice Journal, Dissident, Voice, Dead Snakes, Poeticus, Anti-Heroic Chic, Section 8 Magazine, drown in my own fears, poetic diversity, Zygote In My Coffee, High Coupe, The Blue Lake Review, Swimming With Elephants, Ceremony, Visceral Uterus, High Coupe, Fragrance Poetry Magazine, The Piker Press, Vox Poetica, Napalm and Novocaine, Ceremony.

You can buy a book by K at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/mikelkpoet

“Voted Atlanta’s Best Poet in Creative Loafing for the past three years, Mikel K Poet clearly has a large local following. His conversational style has been compared to Charles Bukowski or Hunter S. Thompson. His writing is deceptively accessible; you may want to sit with it for awhile to truly appreciate his work. His poems are sprinkled with local references, truly marking him as an Atlanta insider, but even those from outside the perimeter will find something to identify with in Mikel’s work.”

–CBS Atlanta


A rambling treatise

 

Chickens are illegal here and marijuana
but you can get drunk as hell on jack daniels
and fire your gun in the air;

technically, yes you could get arrested

for that, too, unless you live in the country.

I guess you could kill chickens

with your gun, too,

but then you won’t get no eggs.

You know what really sucks?

When you can’t fully enjoy
your food because a place

in you gums hurts when you chew.

Athlete’s foot sucks, too,

and so does jock itch.
Acne is a pain in the ass,

but it’s not as bad as cancer.

I don’t care if tomorrow ever gets here

because I am so enjoying today.

I did not like at all the iv that I was

hooked up to the hospital

but you could mainline me

some coffee in the mornings!!

At night he would sneak into people’s houses
while they were sleeping and let go a mass of
mice, cockroaches, flies and fruit flies. During
the day time, he would knock on those people’s
doors and offer his services as an insect and
animal exterminator.

I just heard that some overseas scientist has
figured out a way to take the high out of pot.
Rumor has it that his next move is to take the
alcohol out of beer, and bourbon.

You can’t get to heaven d.u.i.

 


 

I’m a man

 

yes I am

I find myself

saying

to myself

as

Muddy Waters

sings.

Such

a

macho

statement

I think

to myself

but

what does

it really mean?

A band

played

an

Irish song

last night

at a place

where

I was listening

and I cried

thinking

of my

dead father

who was

from Ireland

and

who I

didn’t

get along

with.

Does

a man

cry?

 


 

Pick your ass carefully

 

The guy I bought my mule from
said that my mule could do
certain things that no other donkey
could do. So I bought him, and
he was no different than any other
mule. Those guys had been scoundrels.
I came to like my mule, though. He
helped me around the property a lot.
It’s funny: you never can tell which
animal, or animals, are the ones that
are going to get close to you.

 


 

He died too early

He should still be here

drinking beer.
It was the heroin
that got him. He
went to bed on
somebody’s couch,
and, from there,
it was either to
heaven, or hell.
He wouldn’t have
cared.

Either destination
suited him.

 

 

 

Do you know who the fuck i think i am?

by Horror Sleaze Trash on August 27, 2016

JPG

NEW CHAP BOOK AVAILABLE FOR FREE TO THE FIRST 15 PEOPLE WHO EMAIL THEIR POSTAL ADDRESS TO HORRORSLEAZEANDTRASH@BIGPOND.COM

COVER ART BY CRAIG MOFFATT, POEMS BY BEN JOHN SMITH.

READABLE PDF FOR FREE DOWNLOAD HERE – http://www.horrorsleazetrash.com/downloads/attachment/poems-n/

EXCERPT:

Her big pregnant belly

and hulking milk filled boobs

looked like meteors about to

destroy the earth

and while i smoked a cigarette

i prayed that they would.

The man who controlled the weather

for the challenger launch

when it exploded and killed 8 men said

“That was a mistake God made.

I don’t know why he picked me,

but when I meet him next in going to ask him.

 

“Why did you pick me? You picked a looser”

and then he started crying.

And I have a few things i

Have to get off my chest when

Me And the big man finally meet

Which will be soon enough,

But soon enough

is not now

And if there is a god

I don’t like him

I tried to install the new

Microsoft word program

to a lap top I found under a bed.

I couldn’t do it because of license agreements

and software upgrades
and as a 31 years old
I couldn’t justify spending

140 dollars on an online update.

I was so “old man paranoid”
that the interwebs

would steal my credit card details.

I was scared.

I’ve always been afraid

I’m constantly petrified

I closed the lap top.

Put it back under the bed.

I washed my hair in the sink with morning fresh.

 

COVER FIN

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