Cerebral Contents:

Update for 05.13.08:

Male Model by Phil Doran

Set to Replay by Willie Smith

Backsliding by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

Tree by G. David Schwartz

05.05.08:

Disintegration by Don Hucks

Five Feet and Building by Joel Van Noord

Grocery Aisle by Richard Lighthouse

Cross the Road by Ashok Niyogi

04.29.08:

Lookalikes by Phil Doran

Dinner by Brandi Wells

The Modern Covenant by Daniel E. Wilcox

Death by Onions by Michael Frissore

04.21.08:

Future's Children by Kimberly Raiser

Identity Theft by George Anderson

The Datists by Adam Engel

A Great Deal of Money by Justin Hyde

04.14.08:

Mr. Papaya and Dale by Eric Suhem

California by Caroline Imreibe

Aftermath of Vehement Argument #1,068 by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

Trip-Hammer Vitality by Lisa Nickerson

04.07.08:

The Florence of Basel, or Why Readers of Nietzsche Need to Read Burckhardt by Jeff Crouch

Slideshow by Miles J. Bell

Friends of the Poet by Sean C. Bowen

Picture Perfect by Leah Baldwin

03.24.08:

The Streak by Jeremy Hendrix

Grab Your Butts by Emme Hor

Far Away by Ashok Niyogi

Staring Down a White-Tailed Doe by Aleathia Drehmer

03.17.08:

The Hairbrush by Vernard Kennedy

Dog Days of Winter by Niall Berkeley

Poem From My Grave by Michael Lee Johnson

Mashed Potatoes and Hamburgers by Matt Finney

03.10.08:

Hard Work by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Jetty Cake Pigs by J.D. Nelson

I'm Quiet in Bed by Moctezuma Johnson

Tequila Shakes by Richard Lighthouse

Percy

by Andy Riverbed

 

He'd been up the past forty days. It had been that long since he was told. He was infected. She infected him. His one girl; only girl. She let herself be seduced by a minority. She infected him.

Past forty days.
Past forty days.

He'd do this 'til his days were gunned. When there was no more walking, no more talking, with the poisoned burden that he would acknowledge from now on. He'd been spreading the infection as far as he could. Cut his finger and plot blood on small animals' wounds. He'd prey on all the girls in school. College was a much more willing playground. He was confident, open, handsome, young, a man. Spoke suave-fresh-cool to the hungry children. No problem. No shame.

Terrible. Vicious.

Past forty days.
Past forty days.

Vengeance on the world, no mercy; take them all down too.

 

(Winner of the 2006 Bird Flu Poetry Contest Most Disturbing Entry Award.)
______________________________________
Andy Riverbed is a simple pedestrian obsessed with opiates and little girls. He's recently had a failed relationship with baseball player Jose Canseco's ex-wife. He met her while working as a fluffer on the Playboy shooting set. He is currently in the process of creating a new language that functions on the subconscious. Click here to view his myspace profile.

posted 11.13.06.

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