News update: this site is undergoing maintenance. A lot of changes are being made. It’s getting a facelift and a newly refurbished home for my press, Antiseptic Press where most of my latest books will be available! A lot more coming this way, keep your eyes and ears peeled!
So, my self-publishing venture is here and is going to be publishing all of my own titles as I no longer believe in the publishing companies out there, they only publish when the face fits, despite whether their writing is shit or not, it's more about quantity than quality.
I will be taking on other writers too at some point but I'll be considering their work rather than their fucking face or whatever...if it's good, it'll get printed.
Here at Antiseptic Press there will be words against the system, words against life, words against healing...we're here to adhere to conflict all in the name of ink.
Here are (below) the first four pieces taken from my forthcoming book, Your Misery is For Entertainment Purposes Only. My latest tome is to be published by NihilismRevised and is set for release in June...
A brief description of the book: Mindy Lomas, a runaway from home that decides to isolate herself in a motel room where she delves into excess of drugs, sex and self-loathing. The book is (very) loosely based on the tragic actress, Ameara LaVey that had appeared in many Lucifer Valentine films and other pornographic material. Enjoy the pieces below (cover included) and do hope that it piques interest for its release in June!
A buzzing of flies...
Praise the flesh. Hurt and molested. Haemorrhaged and contested. Lap up the contents of the malcontent and then show your love for the malevolent: the arbitrary violent.
_____
She shouldn’t complain nor refrain the stain of the profane within the inner sanctum of her malleable rectum...
Death smells there. Still, I smiled and persisted to lick her there.
Formaldehyde enters the empty body.
It farts, contorts and dances.
Semen on morgue floor. Catharsis in the derangement of body. Sepsis kiss.
Syphilis bliss under neon stars. Murderous beauty. Charred body, revolver penetration, Watching kids play with napalm. Black and white footage makes me think it’s not real.
_____
“Poor thing.” He uttered.
Inside the cosmos of flesh; hate resides...violence copulates and organs fail to dissipate the arbitrary nature of our anatomies. Caress, confide in the sly cries of victims;
See them weep so that you can comfortably sleep...
_____
Phallic-death-penetration.
Sex destruction. Cathartic self-harm fucking. Automaton in pervasive oblivion — this is what we all look like, / day in, / day out. The numbness makes you swallow cum-death-amenities.
Dead tomorrows, / waste disposal unit inundated with passive bodies and hollow cavities.
Craig Podmore © 2020
