Catfish McDaris


Bankrobbers And Poets Never Drink Water

It was my last bottle
of wine and the fly was
sitting on the open rim.

i wanted to kill it.
i craved to squash its
fucking body out of my life.

Not wanting to waste
one drop of vino, i
pulled out my pistol.

The fly made several lazy
circles around the room,
then landed on the barrel.

Juanita burst into the room,
looked at the gun, me, and the fly.
She chugged all the wine
except one drop.

The fly drank that. She
put on a Freddy Fender record.
While i decided, what next.


Two Stinking Fuckers

When I was in Germany
in the army there was
this Polish man that
washed our pots and
pans, he stank like
a son of a bitch

We tried to get him
to clean up, but he

We finally had to drag
him to the latrine
and scrub his nasty
ass with toilet brushes

Now I work with
an asshole that
smells, square
dances, and wears
western checkered
shirts like a
sweaty douche bag

I feel like
slapping him up
side the head
with a stack
of magazines

Or maybe putting
a brick
up side
his head

I know I’d lose
my sorry ass job,
but it might be
worth it

Then again it might


     I have been writing for ten years. Published lately in Slipstream, Chiron Review, and LA-REVIEW, I have also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize 15 times, but never won. I am currently a postal worker in Milwaukee and a bricklayer. I am from New Mexico, but moved to Wisconsin 25 years ago. I read often and have won many slams. I read at Ginsberg’s farm in Cherry Valley three summers ago, with all the beatniks left alive. I am also contributing editor of LSR (formerly Latino Stuff Review) and I am also contributing editor of Shrimp! I am married to a Mexican lady and have a 14 year old daughter.


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