A free Pikmin fanzine of delightfully decadent poetry "written" by puny Pikmin protagonist, Captain Olimar.

Captain's Log

A lit mag for Deadheads. 

Released January 2024.

Hunter's Affects no. 1: Winter Tour 2024

He spat the blood onto the base of the nearest fir. The fir, stoic and understanding, accepted his offer.

The World That You Need

the grand tapestry, / may be raging, / go inside.

(visual poem)

Elements

We wrote poems from PBS signals,
canonizing a knee-jerk apocrypha.

Mothers

The fact remains
That your uncultured Bird Cage
Taught me what to hate
About myself

Paper Fa***ts

Once, I desired to write something great;
That all the world would quiet to listen

Slop-ed

She is growing tall, she must be trimmed
to hold space in this so-called Eden.

Pressed Flower

"Privacy" (visual poem)
"Jump Rope Rhymes for Blasphemers" (childishly nsfw)

"2 poems"

"It’s normal / a desperate need / It’s just animal nature!"

(visual poem)

Time

our directory does not serve you
chances are chances are
chances are slim press one for
your chance

please hold

"Metatrontent Creator"
"3/4"
"Retrograde"

3 poems

"Shatter"
"What secrets will my fingers share?"

2 poems

How am I meant to define myself if these words I know are forged in the same ancient molds that produce what oppresses us? These words are historical whetstone that sharpen tongue & tooth into spiked barriers of western forts.

(pp. 4-7)

The language I create

Five laps, he’s doing it! He can push through the pain! Fuck you, he won’t do what you tell him! Focus!

Morning Drive

i distinctly remember sitting away from the window because i didn’t want the dog to know that i knew she was watching me.

you don't wanna know where i found this song

how could it matter in the pulse of plantfolk whose aims were [and continue to be] loftier than the [human mind] expropriation project

[soft]locked

"Everything is for sale"
"problems for sale!"

What’s more is that we’re drowning in the dreams of bastard kings with bellies full of aspartame and tongues which cannot sing yet claim for folly clambering of ruling class de jure.

The Rebirth of Fool

"GUNSEARCH"
"That’s Just What They’ll Do"
"gun rap"

3 POEMS?????

"please publish this poem so i can eat"
"Ask the council!"

Self-therapy

When I came out to my therapist he asked, “Do you believe that you were born in the wrong body?”
I said, “No, I was born in my body.”

Alannah Guevara

Selected work

Projects