BLOG NUMBER SIXTY-FIVE: ON THE SICK DAY OF CHRISTMAS...

A Loaded Magazine by Steven Holding.

First (and last) poem published. Yellowed periodical, years old, folded page, prose exposed, curled into a cone (no cornetto, conch nor buglers last call). The purpose of this piss-poor piece of shit? Raging flagellation by page! Battering sense into myself; the only thing it’s fit for, because never read poetry is forever dead poetry.