Karl Marx Alienated Me from my Washing Machine Karl Marx alienated me from my washing machine and now I don’t have any clean laundry. And if I leave the house naked again I’ll be a repeat offender. And you know what most everyone thinks of double-dippers. Crossing the Rubicon with a Case of … Continue reading Poems by Ryan Quinn Flannagan
Initiate
By Ryan Quinn Flanagan step forward mind the line it is there for your protection don’t blink answer truthfully let me know if you feel any pain give blood give your samples authenticity accepted step forward mind the line it is there for your protection… Ryan … Continue reading Initiate
You’re a Cage Fighter, of Course there is Blood.
By Ryan Quinn Flanagan The pregnant are ready to pop. Always expecting. Busy ants lead back to sugar. And there is this gym you train at in Brooklyn where they teach ju-jitsu as a first language. A striker shoring up their game. You’re a cage fighter, of course there is blood. Some of yours … Continue reading You’re a Cage Fighter, of Course there is Blood.
Walking on the Green
By Ryan Flanagan A man will only stop smoking when he thinks less of chimneys it is hard to give up on anything that is cool when you imagine yourself half as much me, I’m more like spoiled petroleum jelly or Oliver Twist’s sticky wet dream or Joan Crawford in Mildred … Continue reading Walking on the Green
The Jump
By Ryan Quinn Flanagan jump in a river jump because Van Halen said so jump to conclusions because of a faulty leg from the war that makes the VA hospital look like the Sears Tower on crack the way you limp through the front door and your wife tries not to look at … Continue reading The Jump
Mortar Dry
By Ryan Flanagan the weather down here is a scapegoat that cymbal you see is band leftovers my raucous stuffed into an aluminum air vent with comparable local rag circulation particle board fission taster squint shadows under numbered doors unruly marshland flooding over seven denarius hills hold my … Continue reading Mortar Dry
Formalehyde
By Ryan Quinn Flanagan you begin to wonder why life happens at all when death is so easy. Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such … Continue reading Formalehyde
Yeats, and why I choose to laugh
By Ryan Quinn Flanagan I got to be honest. I never liked Yeats. An Irishman who doesn’t dig Yeats, what sacrilege! Well, a Canadian-Irishman anyways. And maybe it is that geographical distance which allows for a more honest literary distance as well. Yeats always seemed so sad to me; the eternal victim covering himself in … Continue reading Yeats, and why I choose to laugh
Letter to a Far Away Friend
By Ryan Quinn Flanagan I come out of the bathroom and sit down to write a letter to this friend on the other side of the world who is expecting another. Another son according to his letter. That makes two. “Another mouth to feed and another bum to clean,” he confesses. But he is happy, … Continue reading Letter to a Far Away Friend
The Devil on Drums
By Ryan Quinn Flanagan Have you ever looked at the projects and wondered why those that claim they could terraform Mars don’t start right here on earth? I guess it is a prestige thing. Who wants to terraform Regent Park when you can terraform Mars? That’s the red planet. Has its own crayon and everything. … Continue reading The Devil on Drums
Academy of the Heart And Mind 