Thursday, February 28, 2019

Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. She is drawn to poetry, abstract visual art, and other forms of expression. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at

j/j hastain is a collaborator, writer and maker of things. j/j performs ceremonial gore. Chasing and courting the animate and potentially enlivening decay that exists between seer and singer, j/j hopes to make the god/dess of stone moan and nod deeply through the waxing and waning seasons of the moon.

Burnt Pepper

The problem is I hate myself, my yeast extract,
my belly bloat, my fleshy doe, the lines beneath
my eyes. Maybe I deserve to be stripped,
cut into slices, bent and used as sandwich wrap.

A generic white bread loaf
can't handle all this pressure.
Heads will explode in the oven
or they will burn and mutate the flesh

into dark confection in an explosive convection.
My true confession is half the time
I pride myself for being raw and honest.
The other half of me is nothing but burnt batter.

Edible (or Inedible) In and Out

Remember the horror stories told by your mom
about who was hiding underneath your bed at night
with knives aimed towards your Achilles tendons.
Maybe all your flesh will be gone when you awaken.

You will be turned into a fleshless marionette,
human-sized but voiceless unless you open
something in you that got closed
during your most recent trauma.

Just do it. Open it wide
like the giant jaw of a shark
and prepare to reposition your teeth
as a wand or a cloud shaped penis
enters supposition until they find out

tonight's truth is wider than open legs
or an open book. Don't you want it
to fit perfectly inside
and then feel it snap?

Or clip or
clit? A change of subject,
a detour in which Valentine's Day turns
into a Halloween trick.

The heart gets pulled out,
then tossed in a box,
becomes another treat
for a ravenous snapping turtle
who likes it bloody.

Wasting away in a giant trap full of carcasses

When I first got cosmically divorced,
I ignored every ring tone.
Every sound was wrong
alongside every expression.
What was happening? Everything
all at once. And it hurt.

I tried to rip the plug out of the wall,
but it wouldn't come out.
The wallpaper turned into newspaper
filled with real life horror stories.

I opened Time magazine to a slap in the face.
My eyes turned into Bouillabaisse
filled with rotting fish skin, ripped gizzards.
How long can we pretend this is healthy eating
or even an in-tune song?  It isn't
fatty liver yet, but we're getting closer

to morbidity. Death isn't as exciting
now that it's diving down so fast.
How many devouring magpies can fit in
to this grave? What if they're not even interested in our remains?


She enjoys shopping, boys and clubs but claims these are all merely research for her writing.   She is also one of the founding members of the Clueless Collective and can be found at: soon to be


my bedroom is plastered with poster
eyes’ of my dream charm lovers who watch me
nightly undress and have witnessed me
from but a silly slip
of a girl-bud about to blossom into womanhood
papa does not approve says my head is
always stuck in their books
so just imagine my surprise
when he presented to me
two seats for dury lane theatre
to see an evening performance of my
favourite boy band of poets
(how i squealed with delight and pure
ecstasy when he placed those tickets
into the palm of my hand)
on that night a night i shall
never forget
with my dearest fanny as my companion
we took our seats in a thick
cloud of female anticipation
the support act
chippendales had turned a leg and decorated
their chest for it served as a distraction from all our
mischievous imaginings of lord byron ripping
at our night shifts
fanny was practically exhausted however
oh my sweetest keates
to just taste thou lips and when
he was waxing lyrical over nightingales
i swear he was but staring into my eyes
it was then when shelley took centre stage
i lost my breath
a dizziness
i fainted
a stagehand had revived me and he in
himself was rather fit
i sent a runner home to mama and pa
to inform them i would be late
two stagehands fanny and myself then headed
for the ministry of sound
that night a night i shall
never ever forget was so full of
smiling face ecstasy

*          *          *


the first time 
i saw a penis looking at me i
i don’t mean girly 
come on
that thing dangling there
so hillarious

the first time 
i touched one it felt weird
i don’t think i liked it not sure
then i held it
and it came to life in my hand
i kitten stroked it
until it was sick
spewing out this sticky ick
what kind of joke is this i was being

the first time i put
one in my mouth
sweat saltish meaty vein-ish warm
no lollipop treat
i gagged
but he seemed to be having a good time
i think
although with facial expressions
all halloween
then the real horror thought 
too late
with him forcing my head with fistfuls
of my hair
i couldn’t get out of the way
spat it out into his lap
there’s no way i’m swallowing that

the first time i had one
inside me
we fumbled into each other
he ripped my hymen
i tore his back
oh my days what have i done
there was blood 
there was tears
there was a dishevelled bed
there was stains
there was a search for breath
there was a girl fading away 
there was a goddess
there was a whisper with my name on it
and my name was

*          *          *


i thought my heart had missed
a beat
well sort of
it fell out now i keep it in 
the freezer with the deep sigh pies
and shoulder ready chips
dinner for one should be fun
i think i’ll wear a charity shop
wedding dress 

fill champagne flutes with
add the sobs for extra fizz
i’ll re-enact a play that has a happy
ever after speech and 
feign a toast to the happy couple

there’s no such thing as a happy 
ever after no photographic
proof just 
lies lies lies 
and the crumbs of
a cake with salmonella poisoning

Ppigpenn Interview 8
Marcel Herms
Age? (Feel free to ignore this question completely)
Location and occupation?
Okkenbroek (the Netherlands) and policy adviser “sustainable development goals” for a large municipality.
How long have you been drawing/painting ? Do you play an instrument as well?
Like almost everyone, I started drawing and painting as a child. At school I then learned how to draw according to the rules and then I lost my interest. So, I stopped for a long time. When I was about 20 years old I started to discover the visual arts (that was not really a part of my upbringing) and then I started drawing and painting myself again. I developed my own style and did not have any training in this area.
I do play a little bit of guitar. And I used to make audio-art: harsh noise, dark ambient and other experimental electronic stuff. I ran a label (Anima Mal Nata) and released CD’s, tapes and vinyl. More about that here:
and here:
But I don’t do that anymore. Some years ago I decided to concentrate on visual arts.
Do you have a specific drawing/painting style? Hobbies?
A specific style? Yes, I hope so. But it’s hard to describe. See it for yourself. Sometimes I make drawings with only indian ink or pencil. But I also make paintings with mixed media. Then I use everything I can get my hands on: acrylic paint, oil bars, inks, crayons, pencil, charcoal, spray paint, …. Sometimes I mix the paint with sand, sawdust or pieces of paper. I paint on canvas and paper and sometimes other materials like wood. I work in different sizes: from very small to big and I don’t limit myself to one medium. I draw, I paint, I make 3-dimensional objects and artist books.
I try to work instinctively. I try to enter into a sort of unconscious state when I’m working and then paint or draw things without being in complete control. I make use of mistakes and coincidences and I try to surprise myself. When I start a painting I do have an idea about what I want to make but it always turns out different. I like rough edges. When it gets to smooth I use techniques to make it rough again. Like drawing with my left hand or mixing stuff through my paint. When I finish a painting it takes some time before I got used to it and before I can decide if it’s good or not. It can even take more time before I completely understand it myself. As William S. Burroughs said: “in painting I see with my hands and I don’t know what my hands have done until I look at it afterwards. It’s when I look at the completed canvas that I know what the painting is about”.
My work is about freedom in the first place. There’s a strong link with music. Just like music my art is about autonomy, licentiousness, passion, color and rhythm. And when I look at my work I can see some theme’s coming back often. Themes like social miscommunication and incomprehension between people. Alienation.
Hobbies: reading (literature, poetry, comics, books about art), listening to music, visiting concerts and museums, being outside walking or on my bike.
Do you make art full-time?
No, unfortunately I have to work three days a week to earn enough money.
What do you consider to be your greatest accomplishment as an artist?
That I have a distinctive style.
What is your greatest challenge as a artist?
To continue to develop, become better and keep it interesting.
What projects of yours have been recently published?  Books or Magazines?
Well, only this year I did “Masks still aren’t enough” a collaboration with 10 authors on  Alien Buddha Press, the cover and illustrations for “Only Greek Gods Should Be Worshipped From Behind” by Ryan Quinn Flanagan, the cover for “Talking Shit And Doing The Funky Chicken” by  Catfish McDaris & John D. Robinson ( Holy&Intoxicated Publications), a collaboration with Kari Rhyan titled “Past The Savages” on Rhovum Press, 3 covers for Kevin Berg (Indifference, Daddy Monster and Ants In My Blood), the cover and illustrations for “Ghost Highway Blues” by Matthew Borczon, a chapbook titled “Ubique Daemon” for Holy&Intoxicated Publications and covers for “Trump’s Hair” by Henry and “Hideous Paths Most Beautiful” by Levi Dunn. And my work is in some zines and anthologies on Alien Buddha Press.
What are you currently working on and what inspired this work?
I’m working on some collaborations. With the poet Jordan Trethewey I made a book “Spirits For Sale” that hopefully will be published soon. We are now working on part 2: poems by him, illustrations by me.
With noise musician/poet/performer/artist Crank Sturgeon I’m working on a book with visual poetry, cut-up poems, random google search engine poems and scenarios for “impossible” theater or ridiculous performance scores, re-contextualizing the whole notion of what words mean. This is the result of an intensive cooperation with Crank Sturgeon in which we worked and reprocessed each other's work (image and text). We lifted each other words and art from the page and responded to it, building of off echoes, regurgitating, creating meaning out of something that came from pure spam.
The Dutch publisher Petrichor asked me to do a limited book with them. I will print drawings on pages from an old anatomy book. Every page (and thus every book) will be different.
And there are more projects coming up, but they are still at an early stage.
How do you react to rejections?
I do not send my work out unless I’m invited. So I don’t get rejections
How do you react when one of your submissions is accepted for publication?
That feels good of course. I make art for my own pleasure but it’s always good to know that there are people who like what I do.
What is your best piece of advice on how to stay sane as an artist?
Be honest with yourself. Enjoy what you are doing and don’t bother about other people’s opinions.
What is your favorite book? 
It’s impossible to choose one. Pan – Knut Hamsun, Death on the Installment Plan – L.F. Céline, Ask The Dust – John Fante, Cities Of The Red Night – William S. Burroughs, Factotum – Charles Bukowski.
Who is your favorite author and or artist?
Authors I mentioned before: Knut Hansun, L.F. Céline, John Fante, William S. Burroughs, Charles Bukowski, but also Comte de Lautréamont, Billy Childish and Ovidius. And some Dutch authors: Johnny van Doorn, Theo Thijssen, J.J. Voskuil, Armando.

I like many artists. Some favorites are Jean-Michel Basquiat, Lucebert, Armando, Rik van Iersel, Cy Twombly, Thierry de Cordier, Don van Vliet. But also the artists from the Hague School and outsider artists as Adolf Wölfli, Willem van Genk or August Walla.
If you could have dinner with one fictional character, who would it be and why?
Spider Jerusalem (from the comic series Transmetropolitan). I would tell him that we need him now.

What is the greatest occupational hazard for an artist ?
To make compromises.
What makes you laugh?
Black humour.
What makes you cry?
What is your preferred drink while you make art?
Beach or Mountains?
Neither. I choose the forests. But if I really have to choose: mountains.
Cats or Dogs?
The Beatles or The Rolling Stones?
Rolling Stones.
Jimi Hendrix or Frank Sinatra?
Jimi Hendrix.
Shakespeare or Bukowski?
Please provide as much or as little of the following information as you’d like. We want to hear about your country, please. Any dangerous wild animals or fish? Why would people like to visit your country?
There are no dangerous animals here. Nature in the Netherlands is not very spectacular. But this is my favorite country to live. For people who visit the Netherlands there is plenty to do in the cultural field, and if you know where to look there are beautiful, quiet parts.

Ppig 8

Q. Name   Casey Renne Kiser

(Rather not give my age or location, lol)

Q. How long have you been writing?
A. As soon as I realized it was the only way to quiet the voices. So, like eight.

Q. Do you have specific style?
A. If a dragon ate some children's books, some confessional poetry, a Bret Easton Ellis novel,
  the book Sybil, all while reading Bukowski and listening to George Carlin
... well, that dragon would be me. And I breathe fire.
I like to present the ugly truth, as they say. Because truth is beautiful to me. It's so rare.

Q. What do you consider your greatest accomplishment as a writer?
A. All the wonderful and unique and damn talented friends I've made in the indie writing community. Everyone is so inspiring and supportive. I'm proud of all my collaborations but most of all, always including my daughter, Jasmyn,  in my projects. She is a brilliant artist and a pretty shiny human being. I bring the dark and she brings the sunshine.

Q. What is your greatest challenge?
A. Getting out of bed any day. That never changes. I HATE getting out of my pajamas. And being on time. For anything.

Q. What projects have you recently published?
A. 'It's Getting Harder and Harder to Tell the Two of You Apart' w/ Johnny 'The Grate' $carlotti.
Check it out. It's a killer 😉

Q. What are you currently working on?
A. Currently, I have a very limited chapbook coming out titled  'W A Y   O U T',
from Holy&intoxicated Publications. Edited by John D. Robinson, which is such an honor!
He is one of my favorite poets. He has released so many great collections lately. I highly recommend them.

Q. How do you react to rejection?
A. Demand my boyfriend to spank me harder from now on.

Q. How do you act when one of your submissions is accepted for publication?
A. I splurge for vodka that costs over seven bucks,  call off work for three days and
annoy my neighbors with loud music.

Q. How do you stay sane as a writer?
A. Why on Earth would I want to do that?

Q. What is your favorite book?
A.  For sometime now, it's been 'Filibuster to Delay a Kiss' by Courtney Queeney
and Rhyme and Rebellion by Harry Whitewolf.

Q. Who is your favorite author?
A. Woww, I have like a hundred favorites.  I gravitate toward fearless, sometimes brash voices such
Anne Sexton, Jim Morrison, Hubert Selby Jr., Lydia Lunch, Henry Rollins, Johnny $carlotti,
you get the point. I have recently discovered J.A. Carter-Winward, Harry Whitewolf, Rupert Dreyfus and Andy Carrington to name a few.

Q. What fictional character would you like to have like to have dinner with?
A. Donnie Darko. I would just like to hear him give his thoughts on The Smurfs again,
over cocktails. Frank can come. ...Close runner up: Garfield the cat.

Q. What is the greatest occupational hazard for a writer?
A. I would say , wasting time. That could be taken a lot of different ways.
Some people may think sleeping is a waste of time. My idea of wasting time is quite the


Thursday, February 14, 2019

Ppigpenn Interview 7

Charles Plymell drawn by Robert Crumb

Name? Charles Plymell

Age? 84. I don’t want to seem impolite, but people have put a lot of my biography on Wikipedia.
Location and occupation? Laborer, stone yard. Front end loader operator.
How long have you been writing? Do you play an instrument as well?
I don’t write if I can help it. Don’t play instument. Wish I did. At a young age, my folks bought me instruments. I wasn’t disciplined enough. In later years, I bought a piano. My good friend, the late Paul Bley, keyboard jazz guy, came over to check it out. I asked him if he would give me piano lessons. He asked me if I ever had a bicycle. I said”yes”. He said, “Just learn piano like you learned to ride a bike,” I sold the piano.

Do you have a specific writing style? Hobbies?

Do you write full-time?
 No (no hyphen needed)

What do you consider to be your greatest accomplishment as a writer? 
To have recording artists sing my poems.

What is your greatest challenge as a writer? Staying alive.

What projects of yours have been recently published?  Books or Magazines? Too many to list. Here are a couple of websites. 

What are you currently working on and what inspired this work? 
Nothing. For Catfish.
Where can we find your work?

 How do you react to rejections?
 I only answer requests for my work.

How do you react when one of your submissions is accepted for publication?   Not applicatble.
What is your best piece of advice on how to stay sane as a writer? 
Go nuts.

 What is your favorite book? 
De Rarum Natura

   Who is your favorite author? 

   If you could have dinner with one fictional character, who would it be and why? I’m not into fiction.
 What is the greatest occupational hazard for a writer?
 A bare bodkin 

What makes you laugh?
 Oddities, stupidity.

What makes you cry?
 Innocent creatures
What is your preferred drink while you write? 

Beach or Mountains?

Cats or Dogs? 
 Both (please make a contribution to go fund me for strays). 

The Beatles or The Rolling Stones?
 Stones of course.

Jimi Hendrix or Frank Sinatra?
 Both. Don’t prefer one over the other.

Shakespeare or Bukowski?
  Willy The Shake for the long run. 

 Please provide as much or as little of the following information as you’d like. We want to hear about your country, please. Any dangerous wild animals or fish? Why would people like to visit your country?
 My country gone to shit.  Dangerous humans, 
“Devalued human stock” W.S. Burroughs

Mendes Baratti

Mendes Baratti in Prisoner of War Camp in WW 2