COME TO MY ROOM by R.G. Johnson

The 23rd offering from Ten Pages Press is now available: Come to My Room by R.G. Johnson.

Scrambled Sunday Slam-dance


caught a flathead catfish with

a seventies porn-star mustache

he winked at me when I opened his belly

in his guts

I found a used yellow condom

and a diamond engagement ring

took a quick shower to be holy

but laid down in the tub and fell asleep

nearly drowned

was late for redemption

magical promises of the two-headed preacher

rattle my ears

but not my soul

perhaps I am irredeemable in the state

flesh-crazed Sunday canines tear

barbeque-basted corpses

in between witty lies and savory hatred

oriental chairs

red with gold paisley

they remind me of grandma

she use to chew tobacco and smoke cigarettes


I miss her laughter

dolls speak in scrambled Scrabble tiles

smiling feline masque exhales a foreign-tongued


forget to let my happy beast outside

my dreams will be littered with worry

and feces on the beige carpet