About Me

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Mike Mehalek writes fast-paced lyrical books that can be enjoyed with one reading but have enough substance for re-reading. He brings stories to life that demand to be told, regardless of the hopes/dreams/fears/desires of his characters--the Story first--always the Story.

In 2008 Mike earned his masters degree in writing popular fiction from Seton Hill University

Visit Mike on twitter @mikemehalek

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Uncle Mike's Band: A tribute to Michael A. Arnzen

I'm a Mike Arnzen fan, I'll admit it.

I also have to admit that I really didn't know Mike all that well--being the uneducated reader I was back then--when I first met him in 2006.  He was a mentor in the writing program I had begun attending at Seton Hill University, the professor that it seemed like all of the horror writers wanted to be their mentor.

But then at a book signing I picked up one of his books 100 Jolts, a collection of over 100 flash stories and randomly flipped to a story entitled "Taking Care of Baby."  After reading that little puppy I must say--well I've already said it haven't I--I became an instant fan*.  

And like all good fans I tried to emulate the master.  Below is my own Arnzen-inspired poem written around the time I first became enamored with flash fiction.

Looking at it now, I know it's not my best work, but it takes me back to the early days of my writing career. 

NOTE: It's best to read aloud using your best Arnzen impression. 

(Blog Continues below...)

Uncle Mike’s Band

Severed-head-disco ball scouts the dance floor, spinning its absurd axis.
Demons dance...Spirits fly...down the gullets of hoary beasts.  How they shriek, as they digest, over and over for eternity. 

         The band is ready.  Human tendons tuned on monstrous bass guitars.  Flesh stretched tight on primal drums.  Lead Siren spitting words, her lyrics hiss from snaky speakers.  The patrons groove in a trance.

         The bloodied staff cries in angst, werewolves howl, vampires feast.  A VIP guest am I, earning high status for my life.  Hell’s a party. Hell’s a blast.

Hell is the VIP pass.

Hell is Disco for the dammed.  Doomed to numbing light and sound.
Severed head, disco ball, I scout the scene, spinning on my absurd axis.

Photo by Jason Jack and Heidi Ruby Miller

Currently, Mike is working on the Fridge of the Damned poetry magnet kickstarter, and like all of Mike's works, you'll want to own a part of it.

Be an instigator, support the Fridge of the Damned poetry magnet kickstarter

*And to date I seem to have survived the ordeal with minimal physical and emotional scars


  1. Awesome, awesome poem!

    And, I'm just wondering...did Jason and I each have a hand on the camera?

    ;) Heidi