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the

b’kbitchin’ kitsch

Volume 5, Issue 10October 2014

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about b’k:The Bitchin’ Kitsch is a zine for artists, poets, prose writers, or anyone else who has something to say. It exists for the purpose of open creativity.

All submissions are due on the 26th for the following month’s issue. Please review the submission guidelines on our Submissions page (www.talbot-heindl.com/bitchin_kitsch/submissions) before submitting your work.

community copies:Stevens Point readers, sit down and read The Bitchin’ Kitsch at our community locations: zest, the coffee studio, tech lounge, and noel fine arts center.

advertising:The Bitchin’ Kitsch is offering crazy low rates. Order ads on our Shop The B’K page (www.talbot-heindl.com/support_us/shop_thebk).

donation and acquisition:Printing costs can be a bitch, which is why we continuously look for donations. Any amount helps and is appreciated. We also sell back copies of The B’K. To do either, visit our Shop The B’K page (www.talbot-heindl.com/support_us/shop_thebk).

resourcesOn top of being the best publication ever created by human hands, The B’K would also like to present other opportunities that may be helpful to you as creators. If you have suggestions that could improve our list, please let us know. Resources we are privy to can be found at our Resources page (www.talbot-heindl.com/bitchin_kitsch/resources).

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On the CoverRed DoorLaura KiselevachPhotograph

On the Back CoverDana CentaurChris Talbot-HeindlDigitally enhanced ink on paper

In This Issue4 – Colorful Face #1, Jacob Zurawski

5 – First Date, Robin Wyatt Dunn

6 – Sticks and Phone, Rob Hobkirk

7 – Lead Poisoning, Peter Xavier

Jacob Zurawski - pg. 4

table of contents.

W. Jack Savage - pg. 21

7 – House of the Astrologically Compliant, Colin James

8 – Spammed, Kathy Rudin

9 – Lab-Rat Liberator, Christopher Barnes

10 – Can Blossoms, Raegette Eubet

10 – Letter to a Friend, Andrew J. Ringlund

14 – In Fur, JD DeHart

14 – Bridge of Bedlam, Chase Spruiell

15 – For Those Who Know, W. Jack Savage

16 – Hands Up, Laura Kiselevach

17 – Losses, Dr. Mel Waldman

18 – Fish Tank, Chris Talbot-Heindl

19 – Pressure It Is But Do Not Crack, Kudzai Mahwite

20 – Bedtime, Jeremiah Walton

20 – St Malo, Leslie Philibert

21 – The Traveling Chin, W. Jack Savage

22 - Donors and Index

Rob Hobkirk - pg. 6

11 – In Gandhi’s Country, Sushant Supriye

11 – Before TV, Martin Tomlinson

12 – Butterfly, Chris Talbot-Heindl

13 – A Vial of Aphrodisia, Rachel Ford

13 – Water Shortage, BZ Niditch

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jacob zurawski.

Colorful Face #1Jacob ZurawskiMarker on paper

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robin wyatt dunn.

First DateBy: Robin Wyatt Dunn

No one and everyone in the evening, long wondering, on the last night, on the overflight, rich with meaning, ecstatic luminous, free, a synapse, stock full of the wall, stock full of the final wall, a kind of worship, a kind of terror, a kind of the final fact, a kind of the last and the time after the last, whose treasures know no absences or blockages, or quotidian lies...

In the time after the last, the lies are the deeper kind of lie, the kind we fear, the kind we need more than anything, the kind that builds societies, the kind that is terrifying to me, a grace.

No one and everyone in the evening shall revere their own knowledge of themselves, when it arrives, when it dominates the self, when it no longer remembers times before this building of the final evening in the self. Some shape of something which we will know, which we will at last realize is the shadow self we hold inside, in the break―

These days are ephemeral, inevitably they are, days which you can hardly feel even when they are here around you, when they are at last here around you, when at last these lights build your absence into a page, a page you will welcome, though you might not have done so before, because you were terrified of it, because you understood it to be something you would need, if only subliminally, if only a last vestige of what we need, after all else is forgotten.

Perhaps we cannot imagine anything else. Perhaps we will recognize it when it arrives. Perhaps we will understand that it is never more than we need, merely a portion, insubstantial but completely filling, a ritual with no precedent.

A stopgap for the times to come.

- -

It wasn’t anything suspicious. It wasn’t anything but a knowledge of adoration. Adorable the adoration, the memory of the need, that rides the soul, like a rich feeling of swift goodbye, her legs next to yours―

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rob hobkirk.

Sticks and PhoneRob HobkirkMixed media

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peter xavier, colin james.

House of the Astrologically CompliantBy: Colin James

Quickly, to the labyrinth.This could be our roomafter observing your eyes embellishlike plantings of green phosphorescence.Clear decorations to stop thoughthave been added on and up,officially improved upon.Rooms come and go in the night.So tidal, I have your back.Positive, like a fire escapewith an infinity departure warningsticking to the descendants of prophesies.

Lead poisoningBy: Peter Xavier

you don’t know that old paint is poisonyour skin was blackbefore it was golden sinceit’s always thick whenPEOPLE ARE LAYERED—your insides squeeze past gator skin: eruptions erode the surface with nothing left to spill but a truth within tectonic plates below this tundra—remind me of warmer days when moisture and expansion wereexposure whiletears made their way through your temple from hidden places— I long for solace in your summer solstice—I recline beneath and drink in blindness: nothing feels right andmust be the only right I have?lead is dark and depressing— we forgot who we were:everyone becomes a turning and twisting of events on the inside

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kathy rudin.

SpammedKathy RudinMixed media collage on paper

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christopher barnes.

Lab-Rat Liberator By: Christopher Barnes

Frowners Department Store Milton Keynes 2056 6251166

£Revelation By Antler Daytona FreewayTrolley Case 39.99-----------------------------------------------------

To Pay 39.99Cash 40.00Change Due 0.01-----------------------------------------------------

15/04/14 12.57 6435 616 1514 2229

This shuffler’s ferry opens and shuts,Noah’s minglings.A kindly disposition.Tootsies on reeling browsPrickling the choir of the let-slip.

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raegette eubet, andrew j. ringlund.

Can BlossomsBy: Raegette Eubet

Here’s to the drinkersThe tipplers and drunksThe hearty partakers The pleasantly funked,Who range far and wide On foot, bike or rideTo, then from FieldsWhere points from goals yieldThe next crop of Mighty Can Blossoms

The Sun now ducks low‘Midst pops, thunks and rolls From centers of flatlandSome pods hit the shoals.Twixt belches and heavesPods echo, feet weavePast houses and carsIn these wakes are Can Blossoms grown.

By moonlight and bulbThe seeds, they are sown ‘Neath bush or in branchesStill others romance usFrom perches on ledges In hassocks of sedges SilentTo bloom with the dawn.

The Planters rise notThey suffer gut rot But those of us up with the SunSpy glint, flash and glimmerSome nectar still shimmersOn Can Blossoms now in full bloom.

Letter to a FriendBy: Andrew J. Ringlund

Dearest Golem,

I’ve heard lately that you’re feeling lonely and Wendy has informed me of your bouts of depression. You’ve got to get out more! I know how the townsfolk feel about your recent murders, but Christianity teaches forgiveness to Jews and Gentiles alike. I’m sure that extends to rock formations as well. They will come to appreciate your particular charm. You should go to the open mic night in the village and read some of those sonnets you’ve written. People are always more forgiving of violent outbursts from artistic types. And let some of that green moss grow on you. I believe that will make you more approachable. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you.

Best Wishes, Rick

P.S. Still listening to those Dexter Gordon albums you left me.

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sushant supriye, martin tomlinson.

In Gandhi’s CountryBy: Sushant Supriye

In Gandhi’s countryAlladin’s lampis replaced bythe lamp of democracy.Elections are blood-stained.

In Gandhi’s countryleaders chew the opium ofcasteism and communalism.Riots are ruminated.

In Gandhi’s countrytalks are held in thein the language of A.K. 47s.Non-violence lies in comain the ‘Moral-Studies’ booksof children.

In Gandhi’s countryeven dogs aremore Gandhian than men.

Before TVBy: Martin Tomlinson

Before TV we just masturbatedThe radio jingles danced to the sounds of our hands

Before TV we watched real life reality television Our parent’s voices echoing from the living dishes breaking the fourth wall

In those days I slept a lot escaping an all too real realityI didn’t need to watch other dysfunctional familiesto know what was wrong

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chris talbot-heindl.

ButterFlyChris Talbot-HeindlDigitally enhanged ink on paper

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rachel ford, bz niditch.

A Vial of AphrodisiaBy: Rachel Ford

The stories of goddesses, whose wrath menacesmen far beyond the might of any lightening craft fashionedby gods who know only the brute of the anvil,frequently lays bare all of the power we often overlookwhen scriptures tell us love is meek, unassuming,rather than the torrential storm, passion’s whirlwind, which expires into flames unquenched, lust that burns whole citiesjust to abduct one princess, to cuff her to a bed built out of desire’s imagination - black and roped - the concretization of pleasure made real,without even considering that this is also her endgame,the taking of her, the pin prick of her finger, the immersion of flesh in Hedone’s sleepthat makes the theft of her from a time and place a merepittance for what such consumption by heady monstersis really worth - the desecration of castles that hide such Venuses draped in red, who have been waiting for beaststo save them from the threat of chastity belts who have clampingmouths more terrifying than the injection of dragon venominto longing thighs.

Water ShortageBy: BZ Niditch

Rates of statisticsfrom catastrophicclimate criticsnot listened to;upon the mountaina mother and childunder shadows of trees;only drops of rain.

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chase spruiell, jd dhart.

Bridge of BedlamBy: Chase Spruiell

it crawls from the bed at 4pmit is ashamedit had thought of a different dayit was caught in another timeit notices a smell of vegetarian spaghetti from the kitchen in daylight

3 months on an air mattressin a living roomnose deep in bedlam

it wakes to tell itself to fall asleepit drinks coffee, lots of coffeeit breaks under the weight of transitionit sips on diphenhydramine until things slow downit dreams of washing its brain out with soapit doesn’t hurry to make the dayit waits for the mountains to stop being so mountainous

3am to 1pm4am to 3pmthen to 4pm

it has discovered post-love it has uncovered no meaning from thisit waits on a bridge of bedlam for something to call from any direction

In FurBy: JD DeHart

There is a pair of eyeslike my pair of eyes, exceptnot looking through crafted lensesmade in one hour, buy one get onespecial low priceThese are real eyespeering up and down the streetSometimes I feel stirring,the desire to step out in the cricketnight and traipse into the ink See what we can see See what’s round the bendMaybe we are all just wolves insidejust constantly shaving off our furpretending to enjoy the stitchesstretching politeness to the seam.

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w. jack savage.

For Those Who KnowW. Jack SavagePainting

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laura kiselevach.

Hands UpLaura KiselevachPhotograph

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dr. mel waldman.

LossesBy: Dr. Mel Waldman

Rabid dogs dive into swirling shadows melting on a sweltering summer’s day and disappear.

&multicolored leaves wafting to earth merge with a mutilated landscape of vanishing objects in a scorching fall that does not exist yet.

I can’t bear the crimson losses that invade my micro-universe, a broken-down house with vacant rooms and a panoramic view of death through bloodstained windows.

Outside, moribund mustangs gallop across Ocean Parkway and collapse in the deep snow of chimerical Brooklyn, on the rim of Coney Island, dead eyes gazing at the Wonder Wheel whirling in the distance.

Death and other losses pummel my soul, a shattered branch dangling above the frozen seething abyss.

&even furious memories buried in old seasons, the containers of the past, dissolve into a haunting absence that permeates the ancient void, howling interminably beneath the smothering silence.

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chris talbot-heindl.

Fish TankChris Talbot-HeindlDigitally enhanged ink on paper

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kudzai mahwite.

www. ta lbot-heind l . com

Pressure It Is But Do Not CrackBy: Kudzai Mahwite

Wit and interest sure be stale,Angry and dry but sure not pale,Sure could do with a glass of ale,Yet this is my boat and I must sail.

Dawn did break before timers creak,Nightly bobbing, rest not robbing,Gothic vision of what could be,Yet bliss do line sweet reminisce.

When heat do atoms make awake,Felt I the leak where timber crack,Knew full well what I do lack,Some peace and rest before timbers break.

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jeremiah walton, leslie philibert.

SecondSpaceSend proposals to Steph Jones at jonesin54481@yahoo.com.

St MaloBy: Leslie Philibert

a tall blonde, white plaited with saltall elbows and knees, a new menhiron a tided stage of

tidewash and wind, crouched undera sky of ovens and red brick,serious and wide-eyed

before a sandring that losesits smile as the sun drownsand the sea turns to black.

BedtimeBy: Jeremiah Walton

Before burning out at sunriseI look in the mirrorto see if anything new has been written.

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w. jack savage.

The Traveling ChinW. Jack SavageMarker on paper

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we love our donors!We love our donors, and to prove it, we’re going to let you know who they are. Without their generosity, the Bitchin’ Kitsch would probably not make it through the year. If you would like to become a donor and see your name here, email chris@talbot-heindl.com and make your pledge.

acquaintences of the bitchin’ kitsch ($1-10) - Colin Bares, Casey Bernardo, Teri Edlebeck, Stephanie Jones, Eric Krszjzaniek, Dana Lawson, Jason Loeffler, Justin Olszewski

friends of the bitchin’ kitsch ($11-50) - Charles Richard, Kenneth Spalding, Tallulah West

lovers of the bitchin’ kitsch ($51-100) - Scott Cook, Keith Talbot

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artistsBarnes, Christopher 9DeHart, JD 14Eubet, Raegette 10Ford, Rachel 13Hobkirk, Rob 6James, Colin 7Kiselevach, Laura Cover, 16Mahwite, Kudzai 19

donors, index.

Niditch, BZ 13Philibert, Leslie 20Ringlund, Andrew J. 10Rudin, Kathy 8Savage, W. Jack 15, 21Spruiell, Chase 14Supriye, Sushant 11

Talbot-Heindl, Chris 12, 18, 24Tomlinson, Marin 11Waldman, Dr. Mel 17Walton, Jeremiah 20Wyatt Dun, Robin 5Xavier, Peter 7Zurawski, Jacob 4

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