August 30-September 4, 2004: M.A. Internicola and James Quinton

week of August 30-September 4, 2004

M.A Internicola and James Quinton

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M.A Internicola

Bio (auto)

I came to New York City to go to film school and in those seven years I’ve written five books, made a movie, sold manicures and pedicures and served many many drinks I earned a B.A in English from Canisus College in 1994 Poems, prose and excerpts from my three novels, Kiss Me Baby, Sunflowers!, Chaz, and All Our Skies Are Blue have appeared in James River Poetry Review, Ragged Edge, Caffeine Magazine, The Surface, Kant Magazine, Remark, Write This, The-Hold Magazine, Antipatico, The Quadrangle, Mule, Spent Meat, Catalyst Journal and The Mosquito Lounge Review The work included below is from two separate poetry books, Malism and The Darkest Place Is Under A Streetlight About 200 pages each, completed early 2004

The following work is Copyright © 2004, and owned by M.A Internicola and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Vodka Tonic Blues

the regulars rent me for seven hours
a day suzanne finally fucked me she
was terrible in bed she said she loved
me and wanted to eat chicken with rice
all during the sex when i stuck it in her
mouth it was the worst thing i could have
ever done she even wiped it off with her
pants she made a scene leaving but she still
comes into the restaurant talking on the
phone and drinking vodka tonics saying hi
and pretending not to be looking at me.

Chin Deep In It

new lips
new eyes looking at me

more complaining about me being selfish
more pages passed over
more weird fuck faces

different tits
different hair styles
lot’s of different
mani’s and pedi’s

i’m lying in one of my two beds
watching her get dressed
i can see it in the way she finds her clothes in my clothes
she’s frustrated with me already
like the other one used to be
this morning i can’t even walk her to the door
suppose i’ll hear from you when i hear from you she says
i’ll call after looking at the knife,
the romano cheese, the shiraz,
the glasses, the phone, the salt a couple thousand times-

i’ll sleep for days and work and write
and when that gets overly over i’ll call
or leave a message just because she’s not home
i know solitude i know i’ll never see her unhappiness again i know i gave her the best three weeks of her life.

19th Poem

i wrote 19 poems in the last fourteen hours i got to look for a second job
tomorrow because the other one isn’t paying enough by the time i get there
and wait in line behind 700 other bartenders some of the famous movie stars
from the golden globes might still be up i would
“what are you wearing ?”-they’d ask me, “are you shy in real life?”

“fuck off “-i’d say make myself play it cool
then i’d drive down to the ocean and wait for sunset with rene or jennifer
who reminds me of my mother all the while thinking it’s damn nice not
having to sling drinks for the assholes tonight.

James Quinton


James Quinton is 25 and lives in the UK He has had poems and stories published in Babel, Zygote, remark, JRPR, Mystery Island, My Favorite Bullet as well as countless others

The following work is Copyright © 2004, and owned by James Quinton and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


shooting my
bolt into
my girl’s
best friends
curly brown
cunt hairs
she’s not on
the pill
and I hate
wearing rubber

the ecstasy of
the moment is
always overshadowed
by a slight feeling
of guilt

we relax back
on her Fulton
and I recall a summer
when all I did was
play football and
drink lemonade


the lonely sound
of pure stillness
staring into the black

one or two am
standing outside
after many beers
taking in a cigarette
and the night

life seems so simple
all questions
have answers

the moon
and stars
shine down

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