Kurt Newton – Cajun Mutt Press

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 01/17/24

January 17, 2024 James D. Casey IV

bobcat

one summer
my brother and I
once tried to lure a bobcat
into the house
our parents were at work
and we were in the kitchen
making sandwiches for lunch
when we saw the bobcat
tiptoeing through the back yard
sniffing here
pissing there
so my brother hatched a plan
we’d leave the back door open
he placed a couple pieces of bologna
on the threshold
and a couple more on the linoleum floor
like a trail of breadcrumbs
for Hansel the wild cat
my brother told me to stand on the counter
it was my job to shut the door
once the bobcat was inside
my brother had a heavy duty
butterfly net
it was a pillowcase sewn onto
a fishing net frame with a four-foot pole
it was an idiot plan
I thought it would never work
no way that wild cat would be stupid enough
to enter the house
but he did
he must have been real hungry
because he picked up the scent of that bologna
like someone had rung a dinner bell
my brother eyed me from the refrigerator
when the bobcat paused at the doorstep
it probably smelled us
heard our hearts beating
sensed our fear
because it grabbed the bologna
then took off in a sprint
leaving the rest behind
my brother blamed me for scaring it off
it was probably for the best
I’m pretty sure once that door was closed
and the bobcat was inside
it wouldn’t have let something like a fishing net
stop it from hurting us both
preferably my brother first

Kurt Newton latest can be found in God’s Cruel Joke, Rebel Poetry, Skewies Award Anthology, and Cajun Mutt Press. His 2023 chapbooks, A Troubled Sleep and The Ever-Evolving Alphabet, are still available from back room poetry.

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 02/20/23

February 20, 2023 James D. Casey IV

The Distant Howl

This curiosity of Man,
so far removed from
woodland streams
and forest dark,
so pedicured and
cleansed and combed,
his spirit lost amid
the concrete fields
and hills of glass,
his ancestral home
a distant howl
heard only in his dreams.

But when failure claims
what man has lost,
and sadness rends
the soul beneath,
and disillusion
clears the way
for abject madness
to run untamed…
from beyond the lights
he hears the call,
the distant howl
becomes a scream.

Kurt Newton’s poetry has appeared in Hobo Camp Review, Heroin Love Songs and Horror Sleaze Trash. His poetry collection, Nazi Swastika Bikini Wax Illuminati, was published by Alien Buddha Press.

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 07/01/22

July 1, 2022 James D. Casey IV

poor soldier

I’ve got to do some hedge trimming
you know what I mean
pruning the prunes
which used to be plums
and then I think
who the hell is going to see them anyway
except the wife
who doesn’t really care
all she cares about is does it still work
can she still get my attention
to stand at attention
you know what I mean
as long as it straightens up
like a private when the colonel walks in
that’s all that matters
and I guess that’s all that really matters to me
but it’s getting lost down there
buried in the nature blinds
poor soldier
I suspect one day I’ll go looking
and he’ll be AWOL
wouldn’t blame him
the war’s been over for some time now

Kurt Newton’s poetry has appeared in Hobo Camp Review, Heroin Love Songs, and Horror Sleaze Trash. His poetry collection, Nazi Swastika Bikini Wax Illuminati, was published by Alien Buddha Press.

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 05/25/22

May 25, 2022 James D. Casey IV

eighty years

we’re given eighty fucking years
give or take
to get things done
eighty fucking years
to build that bridge
to construct that house
to pave that road
to carve that monument
eighty fucking years
to get it done
that’s more than enough
it took four years to build the Golden Gate
twenty years to construct the Great Pyramid
a mere 8 months of cut the Alaska Highway
fourteen years to carve Mount Rushmore
so don’t say it can’t be done
eighty fucking years
to be the architect
to take what’s given and give it back
to build those bridges
even if it’s just between you
and family and friends
construct that home
you dreamed about
pave those roads
between here and there
and to destinations unknown
carve that life
from flesh and blood
sweat and tears
laughter and love
love and more love
eighty fucking years
to be the architect
to leave your mark
to get things done

Kurt Newton’s poetry has appeared in Hobo Camp Review, Heroin Love Songs, and Horror Sleaze Trash. His poetry collection, Nazi Swastika Bikini Wax Illuminati, was published by Alien Buddha Press.