man – Cajun Mutt Press

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 05/08/24

May 8, 2024May 8, 2024 James D. Casey IV

Nature’s Symphony

It’s 3:33 am,
All I hear is whistling tree frogs
And the soothing hum
Of my oscillating fan.
I’m left wondering about the universe,
How it began,
Our use of language
And the origins of man.
My overactive mind grabs me,
Yanking me out of bed
I pace to the fridge,
I pour a glass of water
And the hobs clock
Paints it red.
I peer outside my window,
The moon shining bright,
The white orb wears a halo
And lights up the night.
I hear the leaves brush against the trees,
Orchestrating nature’s symphony.
Then I wonder…
Where does the wind start
And where does it end?
The truth lies in the stars
But we won’t know
Until the stars fall.

Rhys Campbell was born Bermudian and grew up in Cardiff, Wales – which moulded him into the person he is today. Self-taught, he started writing for himself at the tender age of 14.

Rhys often conveys his poetry within the verbalised art form that is spoken word; you can find his work on all major streaming platforms, usually complemented with ambient instrumentals to further ensure the impact of the narratives illustrated. In his free time he writes for a variety of bands and artists throughout an array of genres.

@rhysc.campbell

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 08/19/22

August 19, 2022 James D. Casey IV

Night Treats

The man
(a short
perfect round ball)
gimps in
speaks little English
knows the words beautiful American
and such pretty voman
I take care you
nice pretty voman
as his fingers snake around my wrist
I smile
give a dumb-girl giggle

Same shit over and over
his goldfish eyes start with my tits
mentally mark the galaxies along my body
his dragon breath full of lust as he performs
a ceremonious crotch shift

I feign heat exhaustion
scurry to the elevator with the packages
turn around several times
to reassure my paranoia
that he is not lurking behind me
nothing worse than a creeper
foaming at the mouth

I want to know if ever
(and I pray not)
a woman in my path
along any similar journey
has gone down the road of consent
to this brute
with a longish dark mole on the side
of his thin lips
curling into a smug
and menacing sneer

Donna Dallas studied Creative Writing and Philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School and was lucky enough to study under William Packard, founder and editor of the New York Quarterly. Lately, her work can be found in Horror Sleaze Trash, Beatnik Cowboy and Zombie Logic among many other publications. She recently published a novel, Death Sisters, with Alien Buddha Press. She also currently serves on the editorial team for Red Fez.

Death Sisters journals eight years of sex, drug deals, after-hours clubs, pimps, hookers, deaths, and mere insanity in a very simple style, as written by Georgina. Nothing in Death Sisters was modified to read as politically correct. Death Sisters contains raw, untouched guts, written not to be shared and preserved perfectly from the eighties era.

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 07/05/21

July 5, 2021 James D. Casey IV

Man, Woman, Birth, Death, Infinity

The ground is littered with used paper face masks. I want to shake this person and that person and tell them, “You can’t be lost in your own world all the time.” But, of course, I won’t. A purplish darkness creeps over the city. I stream a movie about an international crew of astronauts on a journey to the cosmic womb. The ship malfunctions. Their sanity frays. They slowly turn against one another. Something out there in space is acting like a hulking bouncer who won’t let them through. If they knew what I know, they would just chuckle. A month from now my daughter is having a daughter.

Howie Good is the author of more than a dozen poetry collections, including Stick Figure Opera (Cajun Mutt Press), The Death Row Shuffle (Finishing Line Press), The Trouble with Being Born (Ethel Micro Press), and Gunmetal Sky (Thirty West Publishing).