Submissions Flash Fiction Stories Novel Excerpts Poetry Stretching Forms Creative Non-Fiction Reviews Interviews Staff Links Word Riot Press

    3:AM Magazine
    Better Non Sequitur
    Brian Ames
    David Barringer
    Future Tense Publishing
    Jackie Corley
    Scott Bateman
    So New Publishing
...more links

Advertise with us
Three Poems
by Chad Halle

all the world decays

i've known this
girl since high
school, we
were in a class
together, spanish
class. kids
would throw
airplanes and spit spit
balls, condoms
were passed
around. i would
listen to music
in the corner. we
did anything but
speak spanish,
and through the
disorder of it all we
had a connection, at
was there, i felt
it and wished
it was stronger. she
used to starve
herself- still does. i hung
out with her
a couple of months
ago, we drank
rum and cokes
and watched a movie
and blew a couple pain pills.
she puked.
i felt bad, didn't
know what to do.
i hoped- i do
hope, we
have something, or
could have something. she's
a beautiful girl. it feels
as if
the connection
that we had was
from our disconnection
to our own selves.
we lose touch, go
different directions on
our path of
of hate.
i just
don't want her
to wither
away. she's someone
i would miss, and sometimes
i do.

town bridge

i remember smoking
tea on the
bridge and reciting
fake poetry. just you
and me
looking over
the edge, sharing the
wind with the
birds and the blue
sky. the clouds formed
new worlds
which we were
able to name after
dead disciples;
thompson, kerouac,
ginsberg, burroughs,
bukowski, vonnegut,
whitman, poe,
and they went on
and on
as they kept on
rotating by.

i remember dropping
acid on the
bridge and losing
you. i crawled and
we called back
and forth
to each other, could
have sworn you were
underneath. i ran to a
mailbox, stopping to say
hello, thinking
it was you. after finding
each other we recognized
our love
for the bridge, wanted to climb
to the top. we stopped
once we lost balance and
nearly fell. decided to just stare
at the stars in the
sky, and the stars in the
water. even though it was
dark out, you could
make out the shadows
of the fish and the
mermaids which inhabit
the river. i threw
the rest of my beer
down, letting the poor
bastards join
the night.

you weren't
there; gone, disappeared
into the depths of
the bermuda
triangle. i layed
there, vacationing
in myself. red hot
and throbbing in
heat, the motion
of the river was
an ocean rocking
me and my hand
back and
forth, back
and forth; surfing in
and out
of lush waves. after the
tide reached
its peak and became
soft and
calm, we
began to send electric
currents to
ourselves, about how
you think your
pregnant and have stopped

green neons exploded
into brilliance,
the lights they were
vibrant and they
blurred, hurting
my eyes. my head
spinning, hitting
against my
brain, not knowing
what to say, or
what to think.

when you return
we'll have
things to

i remember losing
you to the town
bridge for
a moment, searching
the undercarriage, running
through the night. staring
straight at you
through tinted windows. walking
sideways and crooked
through new-born
doors, looking
straight at you
through a two-way
mirror...and you said
that you is
you, and you are
i... and we
are all together...
i remember
                       falling asleep with your hands in your pockets


i met
a vampyr.
she had pale
skin and thin, dark
red lips. somehow
she managed to get
out in the sun-
light. she
asked for the
time, i didn't
know. and
last night
as i slept,
she hunted
i wake
up in a cold
this is just
an average
but once in the
shower i notice
two punctures
which begin to
puss. i do my
best to squeeze
all the puss
out from the
holes- digging in
with all my
strength and
nails so that
i don't live

About the author:
I grew up in a small town in Central Connecticut. After graduating from high school I attended Pennsylvania State University and Central Connecticut State University, for a semester each before deciding college wasn't for me. That didn't stop me from writing or trying to better my craft; I've been previously published on the DIY Bandits webpage and Oarystis, The City Of Desires. I can be contacted at

© 2011 Word Riot

Advertise with us

Midnight Picnic
a novel by
Nick Antosca


The Suburban Swindle

More about The Suburban Swindle