Two Poems by Job Longhi

Well I was a hitchhiker
at the love parade
and I caught a bum ride
on the biggest ass I've ever seen
and the inside of her pussy
was like tire treads jamming on the brakes
and when I pulled out
it was me bleeding, not her
so I said,
"Fuck this shit"
and bought a subscription
to Bad Karma
and now you'll find me
in the want ads in the back
of Young Lust Magazine
looking for a pickup at the eunuch's festival
playing flicky flick with pubescent girls,
just one step ahead of the heat,
caught in a scandal
doing the Gadhafi duck walk
with Elizabeth Taylor on MTV
because baby
my hormones just reached critical mass
and I want to meltdown
all over you.

Clay figure by Karl Richeson

White Moth

When I was a kid
this old wino slept beneath the movie theater
and lived off the popcorn left in the aisles
at night hovering like a moth
in heat of the hot water pipes.
He was only awake after dark,
always alone,
til I, 14, suspicious of warnings,
visited when no one would see
and gave him a Hershey bar
in exchange for forbidden tales
of railroad cars, Negro bars,
and harsh cigarettes that made my aunt run
the first time she saw one.
Then he wanted to play flicky flick,
but I had brought an emergency brick
and left with pockets packed with 'shine
that tasted sweeter than Christ's last wine.
Suddenly a new man
ready to reap the virgin's land.
The white moth that falters,
then spins,
into a tar of sweetest sins

Two Poems by Jon Longhi

James Brown Poem

White Moth