Biography of A.j. Binash
A.j. Binash is a post-post-post-modernist poet from La Crosse, WI. He has released a book of poetry entitled Cautionary Tales of an American Boy Out Past Curfew (Rattlesnake Valley Publishing) . He has also been featured in the W.F.O.P. (Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets) Muse- Letter and Murmurations Magazine.
Also a performer-Binash has shared the stage with Acker award winning poet William Taylor Jr. and Grammy award winning musician Bill Miller. Currently working on a new manuscript, Binash will be releasing books for years to come. If time allows.
A.j. Binash's Works:
Cautionary Tales of an American Boy Out Past Curfew
A.j. Binash Poems
I sat in my car Outside the Goodwill Playing with distorted shadows
Tupac Isn'T Dead
1. In the 1st world, our reactions to life are discovered out of boredom. In the rest of the world, their reactions are our entertainment.
Creatures Of The Night
I think of no. That is, I think of amphetamine ghosts Patrolling these streets.
The Toilet Is blushing feces. Urine is leaking
Mother Nature's Sex Crime
I picked two leaves off a tree And folded them Until they appeared as Puckered lips.
Enjoying Beer In Hell
This summer was the hottest on record. I was drunk throughout most of it.
The Library Is A Utopia For The Homeless...
Mark perfected his scowl. A slanted-eye-squint. Accentuated by crow’s feet, Stretching to his ears.
Sonnet Instead Of Flowers
Selling bodies like flowers at market Each petal is a piece of gold and flesh The temptation to achieve profit's target What a shame if our rights and time did mesh
Learning To Listen. Not Possible?
A virgin whispered to me. The air of their speech Salivated, Combined with my ear wax.
God Is Dead? I Missed The Funeral.
God is dead. All the disciples forgot to pray. Mary Magdalene gave Jesus head.
That Time I Clogged The Toilet...
1. Called "The poorer countries" Areas where toilet paper
Your First Day Of College
On the first day of class-The Professor slammed a ruler Onto his desk. A crowd of students gasped
If God Is Silent
God is silent For wisdom is discovered Not created For the inches
I am living in someone’s footprints-yet the shoe size is identical. Here’s a chance to embrace obscurity. Using a normal platitude of flat line pulse. O these footprints. Walked all summer. Along monotonous
Based On A True Story
The morning sun
Had just kissed the window
Through the blinds
A gleam of sunlight
Danced inside the whiskey glass
I held within my fingers
She walked into the kitchen