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Poetry for the Neon Apocalypse is available in paperback, and for Kindle.

“I think Jake Tringali wants to scare me a little.  Within the first ten pages of Poetry for the Neon Apocalypse there are three different sorts of black magic, and the universe as we know it peters out twice—it only gets stranger from there”
– Miles White, Euphony Journal

“Dark and futuristic, Jake Tringali’s debut is a cosmic collection that is both out of this world and soberingly urban in equal measure.”
– Sam Rose, editor of Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine

“Jake’s first book…is equal parts punk, prophecy, and poetry…A book for your inner anarchist.  I love this book.” – Jason Wright, editor of Oddball Magazine

(The following poem is currently displayed at Boston City Hall.)
inside a salem parlor

you will not fool with the goddess.  not in my house.

goddamn hoodie-wearin’ child, and her friends, my red runes
of slaughter’ll spill over your broken rabbit’s foot.  no,
you can’t get a neck tattoo, princess, and there is no such
thing as the modern vampire

precious, just shop, and applaud yourself in my parlor, my
home, buy that bundle of wildwood sage, to bring home and
burn next to your picket fence, skyscraper condo
whatever, i’ve got work to do

my practiced skills linger, occult and otherwise, you continue
to cackle as your manicures dare to touch my grimoire, my
folio, the scented candles that we really made in the summer backyard
as the ladies laughed darkly

tell your cheering nuggets to sit down, follow yo momma’s
tramp stamp and exit, take your mall dye kit wit’cha, back
on the bus, damn tourist, light up that clove ciggie,
whatever, I’ve got lots of work to do

 

—First published in Coe Review

 

invisible ink
it is not widely known but
god has a tattoo

she got it when she was a young anarchist
and bored of the endless

the tattoo started as one elegant equation
that transformed into a candle,
bloomed into a colorful zoo of particles,
and coalesced into droplets of universes

once the tattoo was finished,
it was unchangeable

inevitably, it faded
god’s interests went elsewhere

—First published in Poetry Pacific Press

 

we’re heading toward a future of dildos

let’s take the humanity out of being human
sterilize us meatbags filled with muckwater and noxious gases
acid and bile, and bloody vessels
limbs pocked with marks and divets and crinkles
cleanse and purify this crude matter, warts and all
vile protoplasm no more

the trans-human world awaits us all
cleanroom peripherals from gadgeted laboratories
from the peg leg to off-the-shelf titanium-molded ultra-limbs
quartz-lensed spectacles to photorefractive ocular surgery
biohacking eye drops that gift us with night vision
new gods running a three-minute midnight mile

no sweat – the eccrine glands are now as controlled as a dimmer switch

short-circuit evolution and bring the carnal arts to your home
under the belt, select your size, and color, and firmness
all myoelectrically controlled, of course, from that filthy wet brain
just socket it in
the rocket pocket age is upon us

upgrade that wetware, and visit a human architect today
move beyond the flesh, life after nature
complain no more of disease’s extensive power
modify your technoself and augment your future

master your personal evolution

 

—First published by Kool Kids Press.

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