There is no fucking cycle of life.
With milk,
For the boring
Linear jeopardy and faith
In GMC.
Fallacy thinker
And spot welder
Flathead pygmy boy
Drink straight whiskey
(and)
Smell of salt.
There is no fucking cycle of life.
With milk,
For the boring
Linear jeopardy and faith
In GMC.
Fallacy thinker
And spot welder
Flathead pygmy boy
Drink straight whiskey
(and)
Smell of salt.
This sacred/profane dialogue is funny and raw.
Lesley Dame
Taking cues from conceptualism, flarf, and XXX, but beholden to none of them, Steve Muhs crafts poems that are surprisingly sharp and deceptively plain-spoken.
Born in 1960, Steve Muhs grew up in Southern Illinois; attended Catholic Elementary school, and public high school; received a Master’s in Art from Eastern Illinois University; received a Bachelor’s for teaching Art in 1998 in Montana; taught art on Fort Peck Indian Reservation for three years; worked as a roofer and carpenter most of his life; lived and worked in Illinois, Wyoming, Texas, Ohio, New Mexico, and Montana; travelled to China, Japan, South Korea, and Mexico; has exhibited his art mainly in Montana. The Missoula Art Museum holds a number of his works in their permanent collection, and his poetry has been published in 6×6 (Ugly Duckling Presse), as well as in the chapbook 221 Acres of Fun (UDP).
Muhs’s] poems are . . . jarring pieces with a mixture of ordinary images and profound ideas. He takes the big bang, the cycle of life, science, God, and Freud and tosses in whiskey and salt and drug dealers and policemen. This sacred/profane dialogue is funny and raw.
Lesley Dame, NewPages
Chapbook
Hand-bound. 32 pp, 5.125 x 7 in
Publication Date: December 01 2015
Distribution: Direct Only