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Looking for More Submissions - Hot Valley Writers
We thought we'd try a theme this time - you're welcome to use it or not. Because this year has been so fantastic - too bad I don't have an irony font - we picked "thankful." We're looking for short fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. If you'd submitted in the past, thank you! If not, give us a chance.
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i want to buy 2018 Chile posters
That's it, movistar arena poster, im searching for, some info? thx.
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The Fence
My mother’s
daughter still my father’s child And my
near-fatal flight from shy to wild A tattered
crow with crippled wings I’ve been
terrible places and seen dark things I’ve tried
to be better, I wanted to care Now Karma has
thrown up her hands in despair I no longer
believe that it’s only a phase I’m long
since living my…
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Calling All Writers! Submit Your Work to Hot Valley Writers!
We're open for our fall issue. Fiction, nonfiction, poetry. You can write about life during quarantine if you'd like, but you can also write about anything. Thanks! Any questions, DM me.
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Stayin' Home
Stayin' Home I wanna roamI wanna goBut I don't knowI'm stayin' home I wanna scram But goddamnDon't wanna dieI'm stayin' home. I wanna splitBut awe shitNo where to go, I'm stayin' home. Stayin' homeStayin' homeStain' home, stayin' home, stayin' home, stayin' homeStaying home. WHAAAAAAAAAA gui-tar solo! I wanna truckBut awe…
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The World Under Review.
THE WORLD UNDER REVIEW The thunder sounds ominous tonight.The aggressiveness of posters on other sitesPound the boards and scorch the screenWith red-hots pixels that burn my eyes. Death, lies, and and trying timesLeave me picking the lint from between the keysAnd I'm not sure which is more importantOr if there's a chance…
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Wattle
Wattle I got wattle up my noseI got wattle 'tween my toesAnd it ain't even rainingAs everybody knows WattleWattleShould I quit the bottle? Wattle WattleYes I think ya ought'll
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our grass is dead thanks
clang clang clang clang soundings backyard small metal chimes shit for brains everyday cancerous crisp all gone this one from emeralds none tribal drums it aint fucking right our rainforest's napalm breath got you some bastard fucker living in fear dead whales floating a crying child where fading birds can't fly nothing to…
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early valentine's day wound for pete's sake (nasty ass mesh-related infection & love)
a poem written for her by me, chadwick. this short story tells of a diabolical umbilical hernia, bullshit mesh-related infected guts, intense emergencies, professional foolery, hideous & insidious alliances, abdominal wall reconstruction, synthetics, embedded biological matrices, good car rides, all around kindness & love…
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smaller written things
it isn't into a spyglass it is written this form but on the waves of conscientiousness a book parallels like a thought dropped formative the belief the written path a planet forms overnight for a god for us a plant the smaller creations black sometimes is the wall a definitive separation from white but black argumentably…
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Farrant of the Shadows
New song today. Here are the words: the theme is spoof folk-horror. Google David Farrant and the Highgate Vampire and get the feel. Come all ye moonbarkers, and list while I rave of the movings of marble and gapings of grave; Of the tree creak, the owl screech, and Hecate apparent; Come list while I sing of the night, and…
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After the Wind Cries Mary
AFTER THE WIND CRIES MARY After all, It was the jets that went into the boxes,And the crowds, they had all gone home,And you could no longer hear happiness,Only the staggering numbness of being alone. The room,Is spinning into a prism. It's but a reflection of yesterday's life Somehow, it all seems so pointlessAnd somehow,…
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not the end (part I)
close my casket pull the plug to the sea please kiss what were our dreams just allow me to rest beneath what are now all your seasons gather those old playing cards shuffle the deck cut away from everything in time collect yourself all the months later have slipped away your tired eyes open like the cold earth you are…
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poem - shut the fuck up & read the fuckin thing
another open sun after night flew away rising different always like today her empty garden disappeared because it never was & like that one no one answers the orchid far away having tears something like a cloud falling on surf further each day loneliess created nothing inside oh but how treetops look locked in her prison…
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open the door...
k, so ... what's-a-the-deal? i tell this guy from work we can go out and hang out... we're both single, but i make it clear, or perhaps it was just a statement, that i don't date work boys. i say though, if he wants to, we can go out, hang out a little, maybe have a little fun. we went out and it was not the best time it…
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The Teacher, The Skunk, and the Squirrel.
In the thick dusk of the night, The Teacher drives home on a country road, route 44. On route 44 The Teacher checks his rearviewmirror, checks the air conditioner dial, and flips on the front wipers to destroy the bits of rain that begin to splash his windshield. The Teacher moves his thermostat to his mouth. Ahhh. Then…
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Bleeding
this is a thread where i am going to share some of my writing. the newer stuff, because i am not interested in looking back at my old stuff... i normally sit down with a thought in my head and i just write what comes out. sometimes it makes sense. sometimes not. sometimes it is good, sometimes not. sometimes it is…
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goodbye (part I) the ending
i need a rest, a break from the craziness that is where my life has taken me. no safety in all the eyes seen or pictured. the lost shadows have found me not myself even when directly in front of or near my bathroom mirror. my candles do not belong to me i am owned by them, each one and unlit. and in this naked and broken…
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Backyard.
Peaceful soft colors flash brilliantly in a slow swirl twisting me into midair with more creation and imagination than I can create on my own. Some were peacock feathers while others were blackbird and hummingbird wings that guided me onward. Magic filled me and my surroundings with each movement of air being feathered by…
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none the title (part II)
come on up climbing stairs call out sailing through attic beams these are dreams up & down like flames dancing atop candles going nowhere your lit throat warm & pleasant to the touch affection coast to coast lies across our sins (a long)-time) in starlight outlasts with far away glances each well dressed & saved flickering…