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HSTQ: Spring 2023
horror, adj. inspiring or creating loathing, aversion, etc.
sleaze, adj. contemptibly low, mean, or disreputable
trash, n. literary or artistic material of poor or inferior quality
Welcome to HST Quarterly, the curated collection from Horror, Sleaze and Trash.
sleaze, adj. contemptibly low, mean, or disreputable
trash, n. literary or artistic material of poor or inferior quality
Welcome to HST Quarterly, the curated collection from Horror, Sleaze and Trash.
- GenresPoetry
28 pages, ebook
Published June 1, 2023
1 person is currently reading
6 people want to read
About the author
Arthur Graham
80 books692 followersArthur Graham writes and edits for a living. Cofounder and former head editor of Rooster Republic Press. Current Editor in Chief of Horror Sleaze Trash.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
June 28, 2023
Get it in print for five bucks a copy. Otherwise, FREE ebook here.
June 12, 2023
Fav cover, fun start w/ Mather Schneider. More light-hearted than usual, taking the p!ss about brown-nose writers: “we’re not much, goobers in the sand pile, downers in skinny jeans.” The next mini poem about a tired Sam Kinison type of street preacher on the bus (impressive w/ no teeth). Funny enough, the next few pieces are so self-serious. John Yohe’s poem had a nice smirk-inducing middle ground about navel-gazing and -grazing.
Tiny pieces about bar tricks, dice games, and more self-deluding poets. Moonshine musings that always loop back toward the same themes of dusty desolation. Some subtle eroticism. Then what can be interpreted as a sex addict’s mania-turned-malaise with madhouse whispers but turns out desperately monogamous. “Pinky Bipolar Blues” by C. Renee Kiser is a jaunty rap, an ode to trash and the type who love getting trashed. All its intentional contradictions are cute and how can you go wrong with a cheeky, trap house Pinky & the Brain nod?
Not to spoil Damon Hubbs’ The Last Romantic, but it’s so quote-worthy, ironic: “He spoke about her pussy in terms of art—a dampness like Vermeer, a Monet water lily from a certain angle on the cheap four-poster bed.” Reminds me of Nirvana’s “Moist Vagina” song. Bits about white Norma jeans, office schlubs getting wasted Workaholics-style. Bedside Manner is a funny dialogue that remind me of Sebastian Vice’s piece in Anxious Nothings about analingus.
Bookshelves by Nick Romeo reads like Penthouse: “This is how I treat a woman / Who is packed with hours of delight / Who deals in dopamine coinage.” The conspiracy theory factory worker piece is very modern and sardonic, ends on the high note of friendship, a metaphorical beer clinking. Fittingly, next is happy bar hookups and vanilla-scented contradictions. End Game of course is the last piece and gets the girlies hopped up like the opening rap to Aqua Teen Hunger Force if not ICP. I’ll raise a red solo to that. Really wish I were part of this quality issue. c:
Tiny pieces about bar tricks, dice games, and more self-deluding poets. Moonshine musings that always loop back toward the same themes of dusty desolation. Some subtle eroticism. Then what can be interpreted as a sex addict’s mania-turned-malaise with madhouse whispers but turns out desperately monogamous. “Pinky Bipolar Blues” by C. Renee Kiser is a jaunty rap, an ode to trash and the type who love getting trashed. All its intentional contradictions are cute and how can you go wrong with a cheeky, trap house Pinky & the Brain nod?
Not to spoil Damon Hubbs’ The Last Romantic, but it’s so quote-worthy, ironic: “He spoke about her pussy in terms of art—a dampness like Vermeer, a Monet water lily from a certain angle on the cheap four-poster bed.” Reminds me of Nirvana’s “Moist Vagina” song. Bits about white Norma jeans, office schlubs getting wasted Workaholics-style. Bedside Manner is a funny dialogue that remind me of Sebastian Vice’s piece in Anxious Nothings about analingus.
Bookshelves by Nick Romeo reads like Penthouse: “This is how I treat a woman / Who is packed with hours of delight / Who deals in dopamine coinage.” The conspiracy theory factory worker piece is very modern and sardonic, ends on the high note of friendship, a metaphorical beer clinking. Fittingly, next is happy bar hookups and vanilla-scented contradictions. End Game of course is the last piece and gets the girlies hopped up like the opening rap to Aqua Teen Hunger Force if not ICP. I’ll raise a red solo to that. Really wish I were part of this quality issue. c:
June 14, 2023
Irreverent, sardonic, witty, invigorating—I don’t have enough adjectives in my quiver to describe HSTQ’s Spring issue. It delivers gold. Some personal favorites returned (John Yohe, John Tustin). Others, new to me, I hope to read again. I liked the embedded conversations in several, such as between two factory workers (John Koweski), on bar stools (Jonathan Baker), or between lovers in bed (Nathaniel Sverlow). One thing you will not get from this collection is repetition, a sameness of tone, a predictable viewpoint. Too many memorable lines to quote but here’s a deliciously caustic one about those academic types we know and loathe: “academics writing papers about reviving the male/ spirit slapping their own asses/loafers and tenure and diarrhea down their legs which nobody will mention” (Mather Schneider). From Kayla Rose’s lovely, sad piece to the final poem, Johnny Scarlotti’s hyper-ecstatic “end game,” I enjoyed them all.
June 8, 2023
Always a pleasure to read indie poetry and books
July 7, 2023
In this issue, the joker we cringe-love gets a sold out stadium,
Judson Michael Agla pumps out a masterpiece (imho),
Jonathan Baker spotlights a basic,
Karl Koweski shares a ultra relatable conversation
Nathaniel Sverlow gets a holy lesson,
Ryan Quinn Flanagan takes a trip (to) under his desk,
John Grochalski is drooling again,
Jacklyn Henry shoots another dose of 'false pleasure',
Damon Hubbs proves romance isn't dead (just m.i.a.),
C. Renee Kiser ponders the trashman again (big surprise),
Ezhno Martin will reach your nerve-endings w/ this emotional banger,
Jay Maria Simpson lets her 'stroke the snare possessively',
J.J. Campbell writes his heart out again,
Preacher Allgood wins one for the punks,
John Yohe adores navels and taste tests,
Mike Zone reveals 'truth telling in a realm of toxic positivity',
Kayla Rose boxes in the ring with her own beauty,
John Tustin has a bus ride with that subway ghost from the movie Ghost?
Mather Schneider just shows off
Bravo on the variety of entertainment here. Authentic voices and relatable humor that's so satisfying. Couldn't pick a favorite. Nope. Had to note each one. This is an issue I will be revisiting. So much saucy yum-yum here.
Judson Michael Agla pumps out a masterpiece (imho),
Jonathan Baker spotlights a basic,
Karl Koweski shares a ultra relatable conversation
Nathaniel Sverlow gets a holy lesson,
Ryan Quinn Flanagan takes a trip (to) under his desk,
John Grochalski is drooling again,
Jacklyn Henry shoots another dose of 'false pleasure',
Damon Hubbs proves romance isn't dead (just m.i.a.),
C. Renee Kiser ponders the trashman again (big surprise),
Ezhno Martin will reach your nerve-endings w/ this emotional banger,
Jay Maria Simpson lets her 'stroke the snare possessively',
J.J. Campbell writes his heart out again,
Preacher Allgood wins one for the punks,
John Yohe adores navels and taste tests,
Mike Zone reveals 'truth telling in a realm of toxic positivity',
Kayla Rose boxes in the ring with her own beauty,
John Tustin has a bus ride with that subway ghost from the movie Ghost?
Mather Schneider just shows off
Bravo on the variety of entertainment here. Authentic voices and relatable humor that's so satisfying. Couldn't pick a favorite. Nope. Had to note each one. This is an issue I will be revisiting. So much saucy yum-yum here.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews