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Jake Byrne

July-August 2018

Kreuzberg

New poetry by Jake Byrne

Jake Byrne

The blond Australian’s jaw is clenched in ecstasy. His jaw is clenched as if to say I’m having so much fun you can see it in my face. With a kshink! I pass my retractable claws right through his thorax. He hugs me and his staleness is battery acid. Cultural capital is the only capital. […] More »