Kevin Ridgeway

by Ian on March 17, 2012

Kevin Ridgeway lives in misery underneath the sunshine of his native Southern California.  He hides in a shady bungalow with his girlfriend and their one-eyed cat, reading and smoking and typing up a storm.  His work can be found in Underground Voices, Gutter Eloquence, Red Fez, Gloom Cupboard, Dark Chaos and Quantum Poetry Magazine, among many others. 

Children’s Revolution

The children have had it
And are burning the
Adults’ cocktail party down

Flaming beehives
And polyester scorching
Disco screams oo-oo

The gin soaked bellies
Blow the tract home
Away in an instant

The children build
A playhouse with
The charred ruins

And form a court of law
To prosecute the
Dazed survivors–

Drinking leftover
Booze from
Sippy cups

Hidden within
Their shower curtain
Judges’ robes

Factory Rejects in Love

They both fell off the
assembly line
and were swept into
the dust pan
two mangled
misanthropic
freaks of nature
they stole a sloppy
kiss and fucked on
a pool table with
the cats watching
and purring
they collect
government sanctioned
wages and dine
by candlelight out
of tin cans
riding the buses
to and fro the
dollar movie
theaters and
buying freeze dried
edibles at the dollar
store beneath the
fluorescent beaming
of their crooked
God and his shit-eating
grin. 

Mister Electric Wheelchair

The twilight of the desert
highway casts its glow
on nothingness for a long
stretch save for the side of
the road man in his
electric wheelchair of
whirligigs, clutching a
battered guitar in one
hand and a large 32-ounce
7-11 cup of Black Velvet
with three ice cube chasers
he’s off to the neighboring
trailer park

he’s going honky-tonkin’

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