New from PGP: The Origin of Paranoia as a Heated Mole Suit
I have read The Origin of Paranoia as a Heated Mole Suit by Rupert Wondolowski. It is as good as the title would mandate being to warrant having such a bad ass title on the cover. The poems here are amazing and weird and funny, and for $9 you can’t really ask for much more. Get this quick.
If you don’t believe me just by believing, here is the first part of one of the poems in the book:
I wake up screaming.
I scream scratching the dog’s belly in bed,
scream seeing the third pillow has fallen to the dusty floor.
I scream during breakfast, wet bananas on lips.
Shaving, I scream. I scream cleaning up the bloody mess.
Scream when the neighbors pound, when the police
I scream on the walk to work, yard ladies gyrate
Arabbers hurl eggplant torpedos at me, their horses stomp, dogs bark.
I scream the news grotesque,
football game shooting in Anchorage,
Middle East imploding.
I scream under Manhattan like undigested pork.
The previous day, screaming, I crossed
a small lake in the countryside on a rowboat.
Screaming, I ate a picnic lunch, ants
forming a moustache above my screamhole.
I scream quietly during a polo-shirted
golf match, a drink umbrella catching
on my sore uvula.
The rest of the book is as fun and new as that. Adam at PGP just keeps poppin bottles. Check ‘er out.
Publishing Genius Press