Art House SCARS TV

More Down in the Dirt News

update:  just ordered the book, looks really good.

More Down in the Dirt news -Scars Publishes my work in new Anthology, Art House

Scars Publication has published my poem “Snarling Cup of Coffee” on their web page and in a new Anthology,  “Art House” available now (January 2020)

Down in the Dirt Updates

Down in the Dirt Poems

“Strangeness in the Air”

Snarling Cup of Coffee Chapbook Updated with audio clips

Jake Cosmos Aller  page

Hi there from Scars Publications – we wanted to let you know that Scars Publications released a collection book of select poetry, flash fiction, and prose (and occasional artwork) from 2019 issues of cc&d magazine and Down in the Dirt magazine. Since your material was chosen from the past year of accepted materials for inclusion in this annual collection book anthology, we wanted to let you know about this brand new annual collection book is titled “Art House”!

Links to see all of chosen writers and artists (and the titles of their work) in “Art House”:

Scars writers” rel=”noopener” target=”_blank”>Art House link (This is where you can also find out what material of yours appears in this annual collection book.)

And at any time, you can find this book at Scars in MULTIPLE locations. Right now, it is linked on the main page at, and it appears near the top of the list of choices on the books link, since 4 collection books will be released this week from Scars (the book link is one click away from the main page, or also directly at as well as at the “CD Books Sale” link with new releases at the top of the listing (direct link at Scars!

Also, in two weeks’ time (because we have so much material from these collection books we cannot gurarantee they will be online by the end of this week 12/7/18, but we believe all listing will be in the writings section by 12/14/18), your writing in the writings section online will also have a link to this collection book, so people can find links to this collection book on your writing pages in the writings section of (at

How to Order

Links for ordering this collection book appears on all of the links above, and will also appear in the writings section too, so any of your writing in this collection book will also see a link to this collection book in the writings section too!

Currently these books are available from Amazon in the U.S. & Canada, the U.K., Europe, and even Japan. (The link above is for U.S. sales.)

Check out the Scars Publication book link to see what material of yours appears in these collection books, and if you’d like, order a copy today (I hear they make great Christmas gifts), and again, thank you for being a part of the Scars Publications community!

Scars Publications

the rest of my work available on Sars include

April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitch hiking Tales

Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

Fallen Dreams Litter the Ground

My Name Is Nobody
Snarling Cup of Coffee
Strangeness in the Air
Unhinged Lunatic Howling at the Full Moon

April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitch hiking Tales


When I was young and foolish
Broke and stubborn
I hitchhiked across the USA

Started in Salt Lake City
Where my greyhound bus pass
Was stolen

The station manager
Could have helped me
But refused to do so

Threaten to call the cops
When I grabbed my bags
Without the stolen tags

I said
Go ahead
But I am so out of here

Wondered about Salt Lake City
Went to a bar
Found I had to buy my booze
Next door

And they would mix it for me
Had to order food too
After a bloody Mary
And a burger

I walked about town
Saw the Mormon Temple

Finally about 3 pm
It was time to hit the road
Did not look back

Ended up in Cody Wyoming
Got a room shower
Steak beer

Using my rapidly depleted cash
Spent 25 dollars
Money really went far
Back in those days

A band of professional
Communist agitators
Gave me a ride
To Des Moines

Lots of weed, booze
And politics later
Got off the road

Slept outside
Next day
A beautiful woman

Drove me to near Chicago
In a red mustang
Might have been

The girl in the song
Take it easy
Digging her vibe

take it easy

She invited home
But was not sure
If her estranged husband
Would welcome me

So, I am being foolish
And inexperienced with women
Did not go to her place

And always regretted
That I had lost
My chance that day

Then on to Chicago
Several rides later
Visited friends
Hit the road again

A series of uneventful rides
With truckers
And others

And a week later
ended in New York City

Slept along the way
In cars
In truck stops

In high way rest stops

Always moving
Always going
Non stop talking

And lots of free weed
And beer
And conversation

One more memorable ride
Occurred outside Albany

On my return to Chicago
A middle age creepy looking man

Picked me up
In a brand-new Cadillac

He was he said a dynamite deliverer
For the Mafia

Went to various places
To blow up shit

He hated a lot of people
Particularly hippies from California
And Jewish people

Looking at me to confirm
That I was both

I told him that I lived in New York
And had never been to California
And although I might have looked Jewish

As I what was called back in the day
A “Jewfro”
I was not Jewish

Many years later I discovered
That I am indeed part Jewish
But then I did not know

And I felt a bit of strategic information
Might keep me alive

Then I realized that he was just jiving with me
and we relaxed

And he pulled out some weed
And beer
And we mellowed out
But I believe that he really was with the mob

Perhaps not a dynamite dealer
A real made Italian made mafia member

By Chicago
I had enough

I called my Dad
Told him what had happened

Wanted a ticket home
And he sent me a ticket

And 500 dollars
And I went home

I told him I would tell him
My tales some day

But never did

I learned so much
About my fellow Americans

And the strange vibe
That was 1975

And now it is too late
But I wanted to finally

Tell the world
Of my hitchhiking tales
In search of America 1975

Also available in Print

This writing was accepted for publication

flickering light SARS publication

and in “Deep Woods”

Order this writing that appears
in the one-of-a-kind anthology
The Flickering Light
the Down in the Dirt Jan.-June 2019
issues & chapbooks collection book

(learn about this book, and order from Amazon online)get the 366 page
Jan.-June 2019
Down in the Dirt
issue & chapbooks
6″ x 9″ ISBN#
paperback book:

order ISBN# book

Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

charles bukowski reading

charles bukowski
charles bukowski

While reading Charles Bukowski poetry
On the metro ride home
Listening to Buddha bar music
On my oh too hip IPod

I begin to see myself as I was
Over 30 years ago when I was merely a bit player
A minor character in a Charles Bukowski poem

A wild young underemployed intellectual
Hanging out in dismal bars and dives all over Asia and California
Hanging with disreputable women and drunks and drinkers
And characters out of his kinds of haunts

A mad poet bard of the underground
A drunken poet in a drunken bum show
That nightly played in his head

Then one day I met the women of my dreams
And went down a different path
A long slow path to respectability

And now 30 years later
I am no longer a wild man
I am still a poet at heart
But I am now also a bureaucrat
In a button down suite

Doing the people’s business
Working for the Government
I’ve become the Man

Sometimes I wonder
Would I have been better off
Going down that another path

Would I have ended up
Somewhere else
Doing something else

Would I have been as happy
Would I have been as successful?

There is no answer that satisfies
The longing in my heart
For that wild thing
That still lurks beneath
It’s civilized cover

And I know that I am still
A mad poet at heart
Railing against the injustice of the world

As I work day by day in the belly of the great beast of State
I recall the ancient Chinese saying,
“Confucian during the day while Taoist rebel at night”
Playing out in my head and nightly dreams
In the true American Upper class patrician tradition

I close the book and look out the window
Get off the train, and walk slowly home

And realize I had no choice
But to take the path that I’ve trodden on

And so I put aside my misgivings
And say goodbye to my “Bukowskian”desires
For another night of domestic contentment

Was it worth it all to take the conventional path
And not take the bohemian road to hell and back

I look at my wife and realize
I had no choice, had no choice
But to follow her to the ends of the earth

And beyond by her side as we walked our path
Of shared destiny

Goodbye Charles Bukowski wherever you are
May I meet you in a bar in the next life
And figure out where we should have gone

Until then the drinks are on me.

Also Available in Print

Order this writing in the book
Negative Space

(the 2017 poetry, flash fiction
& art collection anthology)

natural light text
natural light
scars 2019 collection019 Scars Lit Calendar

get the 298 page poem,
flash fiction & art
collection anthology
as a 6″ x 9″ ISBN#
paperback book:

Unhinged Lunatic Howling at the Full Moon

howling at the moon
man howling at the man

On the night of the blood red super full moon
I sat in an evil, depraved godforsaken bar

Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew
Washed down by endless rounds of whiskey
rum, tequila, vodka, soju and of course beer
drinking with my buddies the Jack Daniels Gang

Drinking my way to Hell and beyond
Just as fast as I could
twenty damn drinks too sober

Just an unhinged lunatic
Dreaming of howling at the full moon

Watching the world walk by
Looking at all the fine-looking babes
Walking by the street

Thinking wild, erotic thoughts
Of endless wild libertine passions

When into the bar
That din of cosmic depravity

Walked the most beautiful women
In the Universe

So wild, so free
So wonderfully alive

I did not know what to do
As this vision of delight
Sauntered through the bar

In a skin-tight leather pant
Looked so fine
That my eyeballs hurt

And finally, I had to say something
So, I gathered up my manly courage
And walked up to her

And she looked at me
And instantly bewitched my soul

With a devilish grin
I lost all reason
And became a raving lunatic
Unhinged lunatic
Howling at the blood red full moon

Foaming at the mouth
A wild, free werewolf

This writing was accepted for publication
in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book…
Parallel Universe
Down in the Dirt, v163
(the March/April 2019 Issue)

You can also order this 6″x9″ issue as a paperback book:
order ISBN# book

Snarling Cup of Coffee

cup of coffee
cup of coffee

I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee
I pound down the coffee
First thing I do every day as the dawning sun
Lights up my lonesome room

Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a God damn snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee

I mean, – we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, bitchy, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ass, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, erotic vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists, Zoroastrians, drinking my god damned coffee in Hell; growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ass, kick my god damn ass to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by ex-Vietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ass, illegal in every state, imported from all over the god damn world, insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, motherfucking, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced crappy corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved, paranoid, pornographic, psychotic, pontific, politically aware, rapping, rhyming, right here, right now in River city, rock and roll up the Yazoo, sad, sadistic, sarcastic, sassy, satanic, schizoid, shitting, silly, sexy, smarmy, smelly, smooth, snarky, snarling, stupid, stinking, sweet as honey, sweat inducing, symphonic, Trump can’t handle this coffee, vengeful, Wagnerian, wicked, with nutmeg and cinnamon swirls, with a hint of stevia, with a hint of vanilla, with a hint of rum, with a hint of whisky, with a hint of cherry, with a hint of fruit overtones, with a hint of drugs spicing up the coffee, spendific, speeding, splendid, superior accept no substitutes, survived the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, the Afghan war, the first and Second Korean war, World War 11, the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on black people, the sexual revolution, Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century, the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that Hitler and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his ass to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical, Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee

As I pound down that first cup of coffee
And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies
Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals

I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear
I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair
Lying through their teeth about the great success the government is having Following the great leader’s latest pronouncements

I want to scream and shoot the TV and run out side Shouting “Stop the world.

I want to get off this fucking crazy planet”
The earth does not care a whit about my attitude
It merely shrugs and moves around the Sun
In its appointed daily run
And I sit down
The madness dissipating a bit

And enjoy my second cup
Of heaven and hell
In my morning cup of Joe

Also Available in Print

This writing was accepted for publication
in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book…
Parallel Universe
Down in the Dirt, v163
(the March/April 2019 Issue)

You can also order this 6″x9″ issue as a paperback book:
order ISBN# book

Down in the Dirt

Order this writing that appears
in the one-of-a-kind anthology
The Flickering Light
the Down in the Dirt Jan.-June 2019
issues & chapbooks collection book
(learn about this book, and order from Amazon online)
The Flickering Light (Down in the Dirt book) issue collection book get the 366 page
Jan.-June 2019
Down in the Dirt
issue & chapbooks
6″ x 9″ ISBN#
paperback book:

order ISBN# book


Art House”…


    Enjoy the 2019 poetry & flash fiction (and select pieces of longer prose and artwork) collection anthology from Scars Publications, titled “Art House” of select poetry, flash fiction, prose & art in this one-of-a-kind annual 2019 anthology collection book, which contains select accepted writings chosen from 2019 issues of both cc&d magazine and Down in the Dirt magazine…



Art House
the Scars Publications 2019 poetry,
flash fiction, prose & art collection anthology

Order the 6″ x 9″
paperback ISBN# book
Available through Amazon:
order ISBN# book



Art House SCARS TV
Art House SCARS TV

Fallen Dreams Litter the Ground

In the fall weather
As I walk amid the falling leaves
I see the signs everywhere

Of the fall of America
The once great and mighty Empire
Everywhere signs of the fall appear

The dark skies mirror
The darkness that settled over our land

Death, destruction and random acts of chaos
Are all around us
Surrounding us with visions of doom

Nothing can stop the bloodletting
No one seems to be in charge

As the leaves fall
And the darkness descends
The fall of America continues


My Name Is Nobody

My Name is Nobody

order ISBN# book

Down in the Dirt

My name, it is Nobody
No one cares who I am
I am just a nameless clone
In the cold unfeeling bureaucracy

Just one of the army
Of civilians who flood into and out of the city
Every day

A non-entity,
A ghost
A govbot
A cyber
A spook
A faceless automan
A bureaucrat

Just a grey suited cog in the machinery
And no one cares
No one knows who I really am

And I am legend
Everywhere and nowhere

Just the way this modern world
All shred of humanity
Crushed beneath the cruel wheel of society

In the cold harsh world
There is no room anymore
For true human feelings

We are just robots, clones, machines
And so I go to work
Put on my mask

And no one hears my inner screams
And no one will ever care

Also Available in Print

This writing was accepted for publication
in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book…
My Name is nobody
Down in the Dirt, v156
(the April 2018 Issue)

Order this writing
in the issue book
At Midnight
the Down in the Dirt
Jan.-Apr. 2018
collection book
At Midnight Down in the Dirt collectoin book get the 418 page
Jan.-Apr. 2018
Down in the Dirt
issue anthology
6″ x 9″ ISBN#
paperback book:

order ISBN# book

Strangeness in the Air


There is a strangeness in the air
A sense of cosmic unease
Hangs silently in the purple crystalline sky

America woke up
And decided it was time
To quit following like lemmings
Over the Clift

As the pied piper chants
Stay the course, stay the course
We were like lemmings following him
Dying to save his wounded pride

Today there is that strange difference
In the air
As Americans woke up
And threw off their chains of fear

The End


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