Whenever I Believe I Miss You By JPR

I go on a good bender, then stop when I see some roadkill and fuck it for fun.

As its wretched stench reminds me of you.

And as I feel a bit odd from the strange looks from the random passerby

I have to remind myself you were only dead on the inside 

So, as I wash off the maggots, happily I laugh in relief. 

For, at least in this simulation, the end result is not syphilis.

So much for precious memories.

Ciao.

JPR is the current Editor-in-Chief of 10000 zines.

He is largely hated by pretentious twats, but enough about his close friends.

He is currently holding his Open Mic in the Shower Series, where he has already rid the world of 69 poets. 

Because it's basically like a bug zapper but for annoying ass poets, including himself. It's a total buzz.

He runs a roadside petting zoo filled with animals who all have rabies and mental health issues.

He also is selling his own signature Napalm Do It Yourself Kits through Walmart.

He enjoys paying for sex and nachos.

He drinks almost everyday and worships Satan and practices black magic when not making rice crispy treats he laces with arsenic for all the annoying people who wake him up when he is trying to sleep in at four in the afternoon.

He has been published in The Go Fuck Yourself Review, Prison Kittens Quarterly, I Like Turtles Poetry Zine, IHOP'S menu, Screw Magazine, Your Mom’s Headboard, and The New Yorker.

He won a Pulitzer for his bio writing in 2022.

He also identifies as a pine tree and seahorse with Social Anxiety Disorder but his emotional support handgun really is helping him greatly.

You read all this? Wow, I mean, I always thought you had no life, being you live on Facebook 24/7 but, umm, yeah.... cool, I guess.

Cheers & kisses.

The Mad Editor.