Eric J. Brinovec is a 28 year old man from Grants, NM. He's enjoyed writing Surrealist poetry for about 3 years. He's got two small poetry books for which he is seeking publication consideration: "Wednesday Squared(To the Fifth Power), Free-Form and Melodized Verbalizations...", and "Disenfranchised Screams Floating on Clouds of Severed Monkey Hands in the Parallel Spheres (Bathing in a Tub of Glass Shards)"... He does some collage art, loves the The meat puppets, and he just wants to finally do something with his life and maybe succeed enough to get away from this intellectually dead, western town of zombies...

Two Poems (January 20, 2010. Issue 13.)

The Rotten, Pickled, Fish-Eyes and the Women Who Loved Them...
A Screaming Jerry Springer Love-Fest...

"Don't show 'em yer hootenanny!!!" screamed a highly ed-u-cafied, hillbilly lady..., a compromisational creative medium met me medium way to the shape of a block on the merry, march towards death, we the creative hop and skip towards perception minus less than abstract creative contractions..., the death of creative inquiry is all around..., ego-encouraged movements should not be permitted to use artificial transportations..., I need a holster for my notebooks, for I write wild smoke and light-beams...

Just Remember to Translate Your Hand Movements Into Square-Shaped Objects

Just call me grandmaster depression..., a master of impressive depressive twitchings, that's what I am..., I was locked in a dark room with myself, and I wouldn't compromise, so I kicked myself out..., I didn't get along with myself... a lightning bolt is getting the shit kicked out of it by some rogue moonlight flying in the window..., so I put some glue on it and let it continue to fly in..., It had carved it's own little landing-strip into my floor as I crawled over for a better look..., the moonlight reminds me that I wanna look back..., but when I percieve it again, I want it to be something better, I want to see my life boiling in a bath of colder pain...