James D. Casey IV is the author of six full-length collections of poetry, and Founder/Editor-in-Chief of Cajun Mutt Press. His work has also been extensively published by small press venues and literary magazines including Outlaw Poetry Network, Mad Swirl, Zombie Logic Review, Oddball Magazine, Beatnik Cowboy, Medusa's Kitchen, Triadæ Magazine, Clockwise Cat, and several others internationally. James is a southern poet with roots in Louisiana & Mississippi, currently residing in Illinois with his Beautiful Muse, their retarded dog, and two black cats.
Links to his books and other projects can be found here :
In
a Band in the Rain in my Head
floating
through the
Hall
of Mystics
living
in a dream
within
a dream
slipping
between realities
from
planet to planet
star
to star
dancing
the dance of
a
thousand sorrows
and
the joy of
never
living in one
reality
for
too long
so I
don't get bored
running
from the shadows
on
cold nights under
chrome
and glass
using
regions of the
brain
seldom used
feeling
like a bad connection
to a
whisper in the dark
here
there is something
stronger
than a hallucination
imagining
I’m a changeling
imagining
I’m a cyborg
imagining
I’m a devil
imagining
I’m a god
imagining
I’m a poet
imagining
I’m a postcard
imagining
I’m a candle
imagining
I’m crazy
keeping
it all inside
loving
every minute of it
in a
band
in the
rain
in my
head
playing
strange instruments
no
one’s ever seen
let
alone heard
it
gets weird sometimes
but I
love weird
once I
caught myself dancing
to
This Must be the Place
by David
Byrne
on
repeat
wearing
a big strap-on dildo
carrying
a butcher knife
slashing
and fucking the air
to the
beat
when
things get crazy
all
you can do is go with the flow
jump
over the edge
the
less we say about it
the
better
imagine
opening a window
imagine
opening a door
imagine
opening time
and
stepping inside
when
you can’t tell
one
god from another
no
skin color
no
creed
no war
time
isn’t holding us
time
isn’t after us
just
pale soulful light beings
from
different planets
in
this crazy magick ceremony
called
life
in so
many different dimensions
same
as it ever was
Two
by Two by Two
Blown
mind slaves
upon
the midnight hour,
in
static
gone
mad.
Lost
in medicine chants.
Worshiping
a liquid moon.
Here,
on
lunar dunes,
no
ordinary world.
A
rotting deity
plays
maracas
underneath
a crystal
sombrero.
Dreaming
about
the children of
cat
people
with
chatoyant eyes,
furtive
yet
alluring.
Calling
out lissome beings,
otherworldly,
from
in-between the mortar
of an
evocatively bricked
labyrinth.
All
standing
in a
crooked line,
two by
two
by
two,
outside
a wrought iron gate
in the
land of Nod.
The
entrance
to the
final realm.
Here
between reality and
the
devil's playground.
Most
lack the wherewithal
made
of fool's gold
to pay
the cover fee, but
not
this fool, I just so happen
to be
a card-carrying member.
Tripped
the Light Fantastic
A
cosmic rendezvous
At the
Devil's Thumb
A
seedy bar & grill
On the
south side of the Milky Way
With
alien gangsters from X Nibiru
They
demanded to speak with the manager
Because
their meat was undercooked
Mine
was just fine
But
then
Of
course
I was
high on space junk
The
pink is better than the white
Good
shit I tell ya
The
manager man
If
that's what you'd call it
Arrived
at our table
With
pug dog eyes
Protruding
from a
Thumb-like
head
Speaking
in clicks & whistles
My
friends shot him on the spot
Killed
him dead
They
all laughed
I
laughed along
Even
though my blood
Felt
like green jello
Fear
is a funny thing
They
threw a chunk of gold
Onto
the table
Tipped
the waitress
With
some of the pink junk
And we
tripped the light fantastic
Riding
a shooting star
Down
to the next whiskey bar
Gotta
love those space gangsters
They
keep it interesting for sure
But at
that point
I knew
I was
in way over my head
