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Poetry 4
The Tavern Of Bad Adventures

  by  Matthew Wilson


Waft away the cigar smoke

Trust no thief in this tavern

The tables whittled with X’s

Promise of treasure to whispering pirates


Huddled in the corner with flintlocks

Witches were burned in this spot

Now their descendants water drinks

Armed with baseballs bats under counters.


Men with tobacco stained hats plan quests

The walls are decorated with strange stuffed fish

Where bodies of bill duckers had drifted

Four eyed roaches dart between the hooves.


Werewolves in poor disguise ordering rare

Meat from a backroom freezer always locked

As thieves plan their greatest caper

Around a poker table scratched with X’s.


Bio - Matthew Wilson has had over 150 appearances in such places as Horror Zine, Star*Line, Spellbound, Illumen, Apokrupha Press, Gaslight Press, Sorcerers Signal and many more. He is currently editing his first novel and can be contacted on twitter @matthew94544267.



  by Richard Fein


Why doesn't the dance band dance to its own music?

Doesn't the rhythm lure the drummer from his drums?

Doesn't the stomping fiddler yearn to soft-shoe?

Doesn't  the keyboard man want to swing with his main squeeze?

Hell, even the geeky accordion squeezer can try to boogie

and make an utter fool of himself.

True, the music stops if the players dance,

but they above anyone must feel that calling.

They're their own pied pipers.

Also true, it's their gig fee that keeps the music going,

but it's also something else.

When they stop the music the hyped-up audience screams encore.

Encore, encore, that fast seductive tune.

So the drummer again picks up his sticks, the fiddler his bow,

while the keyboardist lets his keyed-up fingers loose

as they play their coolest instrument, their own hip harmony that sets

their day-to-day audience dancing with ecstatic feet.



Bio: Richard Fein was a finalist in The 2004 New York Center for Book Arts Chapbook Competition

A Chapbook of his poems was published by Parallel Press, University of Wisconsin, Madison.

He has been published in many web and print journals such as  Cordite, Cortland Review,

Reed, Southern Review, Roanoke Review,  Green Silk Journal,     

 Birmingham  Poetry Review, Mississippi Review, Paris/atlantic, 

Canadian Dimension, Black Swan Review, Exquisite Corpse, Foliate Oak, 

 Morpo Review, Ken*Again   Oregon East, Southern Humanities Review,

 Morpo, Skyline, Touchstone, Windsor Review, Maverick, Parnassus Literary Review,

Small Pond, Kansas Quarterly, Blue Unicorn, Exquisite Corpse, Terrain Aroostook Review,

Compass Rose, Whiskey Island Review, Oregon East, Bad Penny Review,

Constellations, The Kentucky Review  And Many Others.




    by  Roger G. SInger

Treasures uncovered

delights hidden

musicians in motion

gates and shadows

unwelcome guests

changing tides

angels without wings

heaven understanding

rain and mud

wandering shoes

bouquets welcome

youth rejects fear

a jewel covered

crestfallen heroes

tomorrow becomes history

secrets of death

roads without shoulders

curves with weight

the yeast of gold

unwilling words

Kerouac’s typewriter

Ginsberg’s glasses

wine with flavor

sugar is king

the Middle Passage weeps

fallowed fields

honesty breathes hard.


Bio: Dr. Singer has been in private practice for 37 years in upstate New York.  He has  four children, Abigail, Caleb, Andrew and Philip and two grandchildren.  Dr. Singer has served on multiple committees for the American Chiropractic Association, lecturing at colleges in the United States, Canada and Australia, and has authored over fifty articles for his profession and served as  a medical technician during the Vietnam era.

Dr. Singer has had over 750 poems published on the internet, magazines and in books.  Some of the magazines that have accepted his poems for publication are: Westward Quarterly, Jerry Jazz, SP Quill, Avocet, Underground Voices, Outlaw Poetry, Literary Fever, Dance of my Hands, Language & Culture, The Stray Branch,Tipton Poetry Journal and Indigo Rising.

Recently, Dr. Singer had a book published on Amazon called, “Poetic Jazz”.  A collection of words describing the music and people of jazz.  It is with great appreciation to Mr. Maita, of Jerryjazz.com, that this collection and future writings are a direct result of his encouragement to me and the many jazz poems he has so kindly published.



by  Glenda Walker


Wildness does not grow on trees!
It does come naturally,
But not without some cultivation....
Singing, dancing freely, getting naked,
Whooping and hollering into the night-
or into the light of day!
Get your wild sea legs back under you.
They've been there all along
Just waiting...
Waiting for you to get up and dance
Dance until you feel like your feet will fall off
Till your mind melds with the intensity of the beat.
Dance until you are one with the earth, 
With the sky, the clouds, the moon, the stars
Wilt into a perfect puddle of sweat stained ecstasy!
And know with this dance of life
You will become free!


Bio:Glenda Walker is a visual artist, poet, musician and all around free spirit!  She currently resides in Victoria, Tx, where she is exploring oddball adventures and navigating new territory after living in Fort Worth, Tex for 54 years.  Life is always a surprise and an opportunity for growing and learning something new!