I stole a frozen chicken and tried some Voodoo. I prayed to Shiva but I'm not Hindu. Magic 8 ball said gotta go. The lucky charm I rubbed was actually just a dildo. I brought to Jesus all my desperate pleas, but though he loves the poor he loves us on our knees. So when's your home not your home? When it's owned by the bank you dumb fuck, and the bank wants you out. I diligently worked my way down every dead end street taking every detour I could take - like rubbing a dildo for hours until my hands ached. Now the neighbors line the street. Police pound at my door. Mr. Diligent Dumbfuck went and got a gun because dildos won't do anymore. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
You may own all the hotels on Block Island, but I have a blog. And I just got a poem published in Edge of Humanity Magazine. You can find it here – https://edgeofhumanity.com/2021/07/28/a-tiny-voice/
Or you can find it below. Though I bet you won’t read it. And that’s o.k. with me, Dad. I won’t be staying in your hotels any time soon, because they’re really expensive.
A Tiny Voice
Yes, of course, we, too, care about a neglected rose struggling to survive among the scattered bricks of a crumbling house, but we've already done all we can. Remember a child has a tiny voice and no money - hardly the sturdy platform on which to make demands. Yet here she stands with her small voice, empty pockets, and accusing eyes, while we continue to tell her to trust the spider who swears he wouldn't hurt a fly. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
We would like to sincerely thank Edge of Humanity Magazine for publishing our poem Sergeant Salvation. A link to the poem is here. https://edgeofhumanity.com/2021/06/01/sergeant-salvation
Or if you like, you can read the poem below.
Clearly, I suppose, the poor have difficulties but they push a dumpster full of desperation and disease - wasting their meager strength and time because they'll never get anywhere pushing a dumpster they're inside. If there are solutions they are difficult and distasteful - made more so because they're expensive; costing more than I've got. So condemn me not, Sergeant Salvation, when I put no pennies in your pot even as you vigorously beat that bell. The poor will get no money from me, but they do have my empathy: the amount of which is massive even if the display is somewhat passive. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
The poor are everywhere so they're easy to overlook. As when I stand on a beach staring at the pregnant sea, I forget the barren sand. 2. In a perfect world the poor would be taken care of so I'm building stockades where they can be put. With so many everywhere it's hard keeping them under my foot.
Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief and Adjunct Professor for Student Loans First published in Scarlet Leaf Review