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Acuff, Gale |
Ahern, Edward |
Allen, R. A. |
Alleyne, Chris |
Andes, Tom |
Arnold, Sandra |
Aronoff, Mikki |
Ayers, Tony |
Baber, Bill |
Baird, Meg |
Baker, J. D. |
Balaz, Joe |
Barker, Adelaide |
Barker, Tom |
Barnett, Brian |
Barry, Tina |
Bartlett, Daniel C. |
Bayly, Karen |
Beckman, Paul |
Bellani, Arnaav |
Berriozabal, Luis Cuauhtemoc |
Beveridge, Robert |
Blakey, James |
Burke, Wayne F. |
Burnwell, Otto |
Campbell, J. J. |
Cancel, Charlie |
Capshaw, Ron |
Carr, Steve |
Carrabis, Joseph |
Centorbi, David Calogero |
Christensen, Jan |
Clifton, Gary |
Cody, Bethany |
Costello, Bruce |
Coverly, Harris |
Crist, Kenneth James |
Cumming, Scott |
Davie, Andrew |
Davis, Michael D. |
Degani, Gay |
De Neve, M. A. |
Dillon, John J. |
Dominguez, Diana |
Dorman, Roy |
Doughty, Brandon |
Doyle, John |
Dunham, T. Fox |
Ebel, Pamela |
Fagan, Brian Peter |
Fillion, Tom |
Fortier, M. L. |
Fowler, Michael |
Garnet, George |
Garrett, Jack |
Graysol, Jacob |
Grech, Amy |
Greenberg, KJ Hannah |
Grey, John |
Hagerty, David |
Hardin, Scott |
Held, Shari |
Hicks, Darryl |
Hivner, Christopher |
Hoerner, Keith |
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Holt, M. J. |
Holtzman, Bernice |
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Hubbs, Damon |
Irwin, Daniel S. |
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Jermin, Wayne |
Jeschonek, Robert |
Johns. Roger |
Kanner, Mike |
Karl, Frank S. |
Kempe, Lucinda |
Kennedy, Cecilia |
Keshigian, Michael |
Kitcher, William |
Kompany, James |
Koperwas, Tom |
Larsen, Ted R. |
Le Due, Richard |
Leotta, Joan |
Lester, Louella |
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Lucas, Gregory E. |
Luer, Ken |
Lukas, Anthony |
Lyon, Hillary |
Mannone, John C. |
Martinez, Richard |
McConnell, Logan |
McQuiston, Rick |
Middleton, Bradford |
Milam, Chris |
Mladinic, Peter |
Mobili, Juan |
Mullins, Ian |
Myers, Jen |
Nielsen, Ayaz Daryl |
Nielsen, Judith |
Onken, Bernard |
Owen, Deidre J. |
Park, Jon |
Parker, Becky |
Pettus, Robert |
Plath, Rob |
Prusky, Steve |
Radcliffe, Paul |
Reddick, Niles M. |
Reutter, G. Emil |
Robson, Merrilee |
Rollins, Janna |
Rose, Brad |
Rosmus, Cindy |
Ross, Gary Earl |
Rowland, C. A. |
Saier, Monique |
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Schauber, Karen |
Schildgen, Bob |
Schmitt, Di |
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Short, John |
Slota, Richelle Lee |
Smith, Elena E. |
Snethen, Daniel G. |
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Stoler, Cathi |
Stoll, Don |
Surkiewicz, Joe |
Swartz, Justin |
Taylor, J. M. |
Temples. Phillip |
Traverso Jr., Dionisio "Don" |
Turner, Lamont A. |
Tustin, John |
Tyrer, DJ |
Varghese, Davis |
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Viola, Saira |
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Weil, Lester L. |
White, Robb |
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Williams, K. A. |
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Woods, Jonathan |
Young, Mark |
Zackel, Fred |
Zelvin, Elizabeth |
Zeigler, Martin |
Zimmerman, Thomas |
Zumpe, Lee Clark |
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ILLNESS KILLS MY SOUL BUT POETRY
COMES TO SAVE MY MIND by Bradford Middleton i cough and splutter and feel like shit
but i type these words as a reminder of how i stay out the loony bin.
YOUR TELEVISION SUCKS by Bradford Middleton I've lost myself in TV the last couple of
weeks and I got to say Fuck
me it's bad! I ain't just talking Bad, I'm talking pull your eyeballs out
just so you don't have to carry on watching it, whatever it is. I watch the
old and familiar and it makes me remember how I got lost all the way back then but now it just drives me to utter despair and wanting to throw my laptop out my one and only window.
50 QUID DOWN THE DRAIN, OR A NIGHT
OF DELINQUENT SAVAGERY by
Bradford Middleton My damn tooth has been playing up again And,
as usual in this frugal existence of This lowest of poets, I worry. Not about Infection
or pain but money as is always The way in this kinda life. Now from past Experience,
a couple of months ago in fact, I know it'll cost me 50 quid to get the damn Thing
taken out but last night it came to me, A cunning plan, to outdo even the cheapest Of
dentists. I reckon about half of that in Just the right bad boozer could get it
done And
offer another new poem to mark my Descent into gummy toothlessness at the, Right
now, seemingly never-ending nightmare Of suffering and pain and nights of punching Yourself
in the side of the face hoping to Release it just to end the damn vicious pain.
PARISIAN DIVE by
Bradford Middleton In 2 & 1/2 weeks i’ll Be drinking in a Parisian dive bar Dreaming of meeting My Beatrice Dalle; You know, her that Was in Betty Blue All those years ago. Mad, bad, gap-toothed Beauty who, maybe, Will show me some Much needed darkness Outside the poetry Section of a nearby English bookshop i Plan on visiting.
A MESS OF STUFF by
Bradford Middleton My
mess of stuff; my books, my records, My
films, everything that a life like this needs To
persist. Now I see what a mess it’s Become,
as a new vacuum cleaner sits idle In
yet another of my corners, but right now A
higher calling has my attention as the words Tumble
from my fingers onto this screen.
HOME IS WHERE THE SIREN
SINGS HER SONG by Bradford Middleton The siren sings her
song of lost love To
a chorus of lonely drunk sad old men And, at last, I feel it That
feeling, that sense that at long last I am home and the good times have returned. . . .
BEER-CRAVING ZOMBIE by Bradford
Middleton As
the clock counted down at work, typical Of
my luck of late it was the first day we Stay
open late, I stood counting the seconds Until
I could get out because tonight wasn’t Going
to be just another night of smoke and Losing
myself in some soap opera. It was Going to be the
night I had grown desperate For during the whole prolonged
nightmare Of drinking out on the pavement battling all That
goddamn wind and rain, hence only Venturing out a
couple of times but trust me There was almost temptation
every single One of those days counting . . . Counting
. . . Counting . . . Until that moment
when they’d let us back Inside and tonight, well
tonight, was that Night and almost instantly, upon walking Back
through that hallowed door I felt myself Grow
calm and like a King returning to take Up
his throne. I found an empty table looking Out
on the street of ill-repute and as my drinks Came
over I saw her. One for the age A green-haired
creature of dizzying size and Shape, and suddenly I was
back living the life Of the bars’ living dead.
THEY
ALL HATE MY HERO by Bradford
Middleton “Oh, I hate him,” they’ll snarl whenever he comes
near and I know My hero has returned. The
local misanthrope who hates almost Everyone and everything
and who comes in my shop whenever I’m Working and I can just
stand on the check-out dreaming, in a few Decades time, about how
I’d take being just like him. The kids I work With all hate his guts,
despise him, always questioning his use of so many Bags but as someone who’s had a lifetime to prepare he’s
always got A response and it always
brings a smile to my face. “People
forget about the plastics industry,” he’ll retort to the eye- Rolling youth who’ll hurry him out the store whilst when he
comes To me it’ll always
end in fun & games. “You’ve taken all my money!” He’ll
claim, whilst peering over a wallet stuffed full of 20s, after his Regulation 2 bottles of wine which I’m guessing he’ll
do every day After a long lunch-hour
in the pub. “You
kids don’t get it!” I’ll scream at them all as soon as he leaves
and As they roll their eyes at me, “Lunch
in the pub every afternoon and 2 Sweet bottles of wine every
night, now that’s what I call living!” I’ll Respond before they
tell me I’m already halfway to living the dream Of being just like him and I don’t know if they mean in age
or in Levels of hatred and, in
all honesty, I couldn’t give a damn!
Bradford Middleton lives in Brighton on the UK’s southeast coast. He
was born in London during the long hot summer of 1971 and growing up on a council estate
and attending the local school, he learnt two things; if he didn’t kick back he’d
never get anywhere in this life, merely becoming another cog in the wheel, and has been
kicking against those pricks his entire life. He began
writing when he arrived in Brighton in the early years of the new century and began
reading his poems to often stunned and confused onlookers until one day Mad Swirl
asked to publish one of his poems. He’s had four chapbooks published since then and
has hundreds of poems dotted all over the internet. His work has featured in the
Chiron Review, Evening Street Review, New Reader Magazine, Paper
& Ink Lit Zine, Horror Sleaze Trash, and Razur Cuts, amongst other
places including, of course, Yellow Mama. Follow him on Twitter @BradfordMiddle5.
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