Always More, By John D Robinson

Horror Sleaze Trash

Horror Sleaze Trash proudly presents the poems of John D Robinson.

“These are survivor poems, battle scarred verse that hits the soul and assaults the frontal lobe. Here is a poet who has lived several lives and emerged on the other side intact.”

—Joseph Ridgwell, author of Burrito Deluxe

“This book is not decorative art. This book is not the exercise of the commercial artisan. This book is stripped of 21st century consumer bullshit. This book is a way in to what matters. Get ready. It is going to hurt. And you will love it.”

—Henry Stanton, UnCollected Press


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The Ramingo’s Porch – “A Sailor’s Advice” And Other Poems By David Spicer


Never sleep with a woman crazier than you.
I failed to heed his words in my lovelorn days:

more narcissistic than the god at his liquid
mirror, shyer than a man who couldn’t dance.

A romantic fool, I dived into the pool of love’s
nine-foot end, unaware that a serial heartbreaker’s

charms lasted no longer than her boredom
with someone who loved amour and himself.

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The Ramingo’s Porch – “Cold Lips” & “The Shaman’s Talisman” Two Poems By John Tustin

Cold Lips

I liked when her lips were cold and wet inside
And when her breath smelled like beer at night

Or, in the afternoon when my mouth tasted of coffee
And mixed with the taste of the coffee on her tongue.

I miss her lips that were cold and wet inside
And parting them with my own lips was like a ritual,

Her body a tabernacle with the doors becoming open
As my own body trembled with the solemnity and the hallelujah

Of each exciting sacred moment that came next and next
Beneath the golden sky of a room with two people alone and touching.

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The Ramingo’s Porch – “A Second Day” A Poem By Joe Albanese

A Second Day

Midnight crown and daunted growing.
I’d rather face the night and earn a
second day. Waves and waves of
could-be hopes and next-time semblances
of a tomorrow coming. A wrong turn sent
me here, in the dark, away from ease and
establishment. Away from comfort and
beauty to this darkness, this darkness—
only kept by sight unfounded. I see those
monsters up ahead. But only by light
do we see. There must be some more,
past the gruesome hold this dark has
over me. So I press on: I’d rather face
the night and earn a second day.

Joe Albanese is a writer from South Jersey. His work has been published across the U.S. and in ten other countries. He is the author of Benevolent KingCainaCandy Apple RedFor the Blood is the LifeSmash and Grab, and a poetry collection, Cocktails with a Dead Man.