"Friday the 13th," "American Boy," and "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb"

Friday the 13th


a middle of the night phone call from your mother a continent away

and suddenly the whiskey loses its edge

and the silver screen dream there in your arms

is half a world away

my limits are becoming clear

with borders controlled and emotions in check

we carry on, we grab a beer in our political acts of light

we sit in cafés, unafraid, and stare into the night

a little worse for the wear

and now, holed up in a tiny dutch town, i try not to cry

because it would be bad for my rep

but i know as i return tomorrow

i will go into a place that is once again foreign

and the weight that is in my heart outweighs any of the joy

that i have recently become accustomed to


where do we go from here?

we continue just as we always have

we persevere, we drink, we fuck

and we bask in the knowledge that no matter what

the sun will still rise tomorrow



American Boy

today or tomorrow
while you were out
we said the pledge
of allegiance
hands over our hearts
eyes on the flag or
gazing out the window
not hearing the poetry
of such majestic words
he speaks without a clue
i thought i loved him once
blond hair blue eyes
off soon to fight
in a civil war our fathers
did not start but joined
just the same
he stands
the perfect american boy



How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb


shout outs to the shift workers and shapeshifters

the backbones of society

the doors of the cage were opened long ago

i had just never learned to fly

the never ending cacophony of dead loves

deafened me to you calling from behind those doors

awash in the pride of poverty

and the ever present need for


it all seems so clear to me now

here on the eve of my collapse

that as always

i will rise up stronger than before

the warrior poet

princess of the page

whore to the written word

rejoice! for now among ye walks

a myth amongst mere mortals

drink up if we be friends and

can you get this one because i'm a little short

freedom keeps changing its definition on me

but i'm pretty sure we are headed in the right direction



win harms has two books published by Barncott Press, In Harms Way and October 22. She has been featured in Urban Grafitti, Rusty Truck, The Poetic PinUp Review and contributed to the Bukowski Anthology published by Silver Birch Press. She is the Resident Advisor and co-founder for Rough Night Press and organizes spoken word events. win has two spoken word albums, Little Attic Sessions and 108 (The Raw Channel) and two books, boys & booze and Mokum Mantras all from Rough Night Press. She has collaborated on films, art installations, and photography exhibitions and continues to do live performance art. Her website is WinHarms.com.


Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Thursday, July 28, 2016 - 02:37