Joe Wade – Medium

Published in The Outlaw Writers’ Hideout

·Pinned

Nail-Scratched Notes From the Cage

a poem — born with a rage in a psycho-sapient cage a man ponders death and the cycle of life the rot-smell of flesh as familiar as fire and rain as frequent as hunger and pain as mysterious as the stars and love a man runs with a pack of shamans and hacks a hunter-poet…

Poetry

2 min read

Poetry

2 min read

Published in The Outlaw Writers’ Hideout

·Pinned

The Midnight Patrol

an evil poem by Joe Wade — rapid oxidation of a cigarette like a dragon out through the lips and up through the nose darkness and streetlights run parallel to the train tracks echos of turbos the midnight patrol whores and heads and bastards a dollar gets you cut to the bone i watch the glorious glam of it…

Poetry

2 min read

Poetry

2 min read

Published in The Outlaw Writers’ Hideout

·4 hours ago

Sunset Beach

Poetry made from memories — I saw a boy, shot dead with a hole in his head parked in the driver’s seat at the road to Sunset Beach. His friends, they said “we don’t know a thing” “but we moved the body” “to save him” Jesus Christ, people. Go back to your party at the lake…

Poetry

2 min read

Poetry

2 min read

Published in The Outlaw Writers’ Hideout

·Mar 8

Joe’s Anarchy Radio: Junkie

poetry about adderall — Adderall, You Wicked Bitch i’m half dead on the yellow kitchen floor man i’m sunk so fucking low i’m out of adderall again, friend it’s hell, don’t you know? you ever felt dead? zapped? and i really mean zapped tapped to the core on a sweaty yellow kitchen floor just need a little bit more…

Poetry

1 min read

Poetry

1 min read

Published in The Cryptid

·Mar 7

The Boogieman’s Vacation

Monsters, a Cat, and a Contraption. — Beginning: In Which Curtis, Jeffery, and the Boys Surround a Vacationing Family

Fiction

6 min read

Fiction

6 min read

Published in The Outlaw Writers’ Hideout

·Mar 6

A Million Cigarettes

A poem — i bet we smoked a million cigarettes loons leaned against the wall hiding from the wind at break time suck down dopamine through a class A straw thump the butt into the drain under the public transport bus that waits to take us away the social worker calls out break time’s…

Poetry

2 min read

Poetry

2 min read

Published in The Power of Poetry

·Feb 28

Dead Antiheroes In the Purple Room

a poem by joe wade — a bloated subwoofer speaks shouting heartbeats through the floor steve mcqueen holds up my wall william holden blocks my door i’m pillowed in ash and cigarette butts surrounded by antihero lore cocooned marooned in a purple room writing biting fighting for more i suck down marlboros to fuel the burn to…

Poetry

2 min read

Poetry

2 min read

Published in The Power of Poetry

·Feb 23

Sharecropper’s Lament/A Broken-Faced Mind

a poem — i play in the dirt near the old coal pile where the red clay is sandy and washes in the rain with daydreaming eyes i search for surprise something to create with two sticks and some tape daddy’s in the field again and I need experiments and trouble so i…

Poetry

3 min read

Sharecropper’s Lament/A Broken-Faced Mind

Poetry

3 min read

Published in The Outlaw Writers’ Hideout

·Feb 17

Phoenix V

a poem from a rock song — This poem is based on a rock song I wrote long ago, sitting on a balcony at the Phoenix V condos in Gulf Shores Alabama. Phoenix V a fire rises from the east her hair flickers in the breeze she lays her body on the ground the earth is burning all around …

Poetry

2 min read

Poetry

2 min read

Published in Bouncin’ and Behavin’ Blogs

·Feb 16

Playing the Perfect Rock Gig At a Tennessee Bar

It All Came Down To One Song — Josie Goes To College We have a killer setlist. We have a killer sound. We can pull this off. I haul my amplifier through the parking lot and my stomach turns sour. Why do I feel sick? I never have nerves before a show. I love playing live. Must be all the damned whiskey…

Music

5 min read

Playing the Perfect Rock Gig At a Tennessee Bar

Music

5 min read