Pies&Poems

  I remember the  one time I trafficked pizza... To be distributed for free,  but nonetheless  I thought I was cute & funny bringing Little Caesar to stab Pizza the Hut  in the back  for only offering one free slice to the first so many people not understanding there's no such thing as free lunch or a free concert without a sponsor While Macaulay Culkin  sang with his band who parodied songs by the Velvet Underground with pizza references I handed out slices getting high-fives from hipsters and  hardcore punks We were all just happy to share a love of things that do not normally collide including one another in this hostile city Christine Veasey feels that Live, Laugh, Love equals Pizza, Tacos, Ice Cream. Mushroom is her favorite topping.  Christine publishes micropoetry under the handle  @honneylovepoems on Twitter.

  Lies and Pizza   Round triangles trying to be three things at once Crispy and soft and dripping Base sauce topped with topping dipped in dipping sauce   Consumed whole   Devoured with glee Sweet on the tongue Hot on the tongue Warm fullness in the belly And then drowsiness   Satiation A moment’s satisfaction   And then suddenly remembering your recent Lactose intolerance diagnosis That always slips your mind When round triangles sizzle seductively   Ellie in pizza-land Wonderous whispers–– Eat Me, Eat Me – Oh. Oh no no no.   The taste turns sour in your mouth.   Ellie Rose McKee is a writer from Northern Ireland. She has had poems published by Arlen House, Nine Muses Poetry, and Black Bough; has had short stories included in Women Aloud NI's 'North Star' anthology, The Bramley, and Scarlet Leaf Review; and has been blogging for over ten years.

Pizza Flavored Love   Whenever I see a slice, New York style, I think of you.   your kiss hot with pepperoni grease, your tongue coated in mozzarella, your warm garlic butter breath on my neck,   It was the delivery my soul needed. Nacho Cheese Vitamin Supplement   inject me with enriched nacho cheese supplement, it’s the only way to get the vitamin D that this winter will never provide,   mainline that liquid gold into my veins,   press the needle into my flesh, then depress my depression like you do the hypo’s pump,   watch the ever-living smile march across my broken, furry teeth as you unsnap the tourniquet and see that cheese slide its way to my brain, my heart.   Jeremy Scott is from Albany, Georgia. He is @possiblyarhino on Twitter and in real life. His work has been published or is forthcoming in All Guts No Glory Zine, Angel Rust Magazine, BOMBFIRE, Fifth Wheel Press's  flux  digital anthology,

  Halle Prenaeta (she/her) enjoys writing short stories and poetry and gets her ideas from random life experiences. When she’s not writing, she’s either watching YouTube or playing Animal Crossing. Her Twitter handle is @YaTheatreNerd . You can check out more of her work here .

  waiting for you      It wasn’t supposed to be this way  you weren’t supposed to be around  but you sent me a text your plans have changed    Here’s the thing though I just ordered a pizza  and waiting for it to arrive  is the best I’ve felt since I met you   So, maybe you shouldn’t come  I thought you’d be happy , you said  I am happy , I said, and I’m smiling  watching the delivery guy pull up       Florence McCambridge lives, writes, breathes, and contemplates in Toronto. She spends most of her time reading, baking, and chasing her dog, Finnegan, around the house. He likes to steal socks, that cheeky terrier. Florence has had work published in  Sledgehammer Lit ,  Dead Housekeeping , and  Twisted Endings . Twitter:  @FlorenceMcC  

pizza rats deserve the world nyc has the best pizza in the world and if you say otherwise i’ll fight you in the sewer with two rats tied around my hands and two pigeons lifting me up by the shoulders. one time my formerly brooklynite father directed me to luigi’s pizza. the sourdough crust made me want to transform into a hawk so i could steal slices from dive-bombed customers. 2bros cradled me through broke and drunken nights. artichoke basille replaced my heart. lombardi ’s could stuff me into a brick oven and i ’ d happily lick its insides.   my hometown is beautiful and impossible and we have the best pizza in the world. i went to maryland one time and had pizza in dessert pie crust. that pizza made me want to transform into a hawk so i could snatch it from customers’ hands and then fly back to nyc to get them some real pizza.   but lately i’ve been thinking about how nyc is just one cell in the animal of earth. i’m an anxiety dream turned flesh, built for chaos but n