About the Author

2 poems

Untitled moonlit night w/a circle of sharks, vodka, rum, nicotined fingertips, palm fronds clacking, coconuts rotting on the sand, the interisland honolulu-hilo flight roaring overhead, 4 pound toads on the tarmac, barkless island dogs hunting mongoose, the rape of wild cats by the banyan, a slight tradewind giving the soft & easy... a batu dark, the pier lights shifting, breathing hard & excited, clouds of wormy termites in streams of streetlights, skinny dizzy hippy childs stoned on the corners, fat bikers & lowrider toyotas cruising, korean & german & american tourists wearing spectacles & white shorts, german & american cockroaches flying bait for indian mynahs, 3 inch lizards that cough & curl, mattress worms, black bumblebees, volcano fog, cold and lava, young men who weigh 260 pounds w/no ounce of fat committing suicide, beautiful filipina girls tiny & 14 w/2 kids, the soft riot of tropical rain... raw fish & shoyu... pepper spray & pawnshops... hamburger gravy, rice, & sunny side up for breakfast... no jobs... karoake bars... parades for christ on the 4th of july... many beautiful flowers and all colours of fish... Untitled the coconuts are browning in the great sun. the fishing poles are bent by slabs of talapia. the lizard without a tail was hiding in an old dirty sock. the children bleating like devils. my heart carpet-burned & terrible. my belief in hell remembered again. as the clowns lope about in drunken strides of poison & lillies. shit, i will go mad before all of this ends. vision slurred by milky clouds and silver exhaust. hands turned useless & soft. furrows in my skull. the unholy are after me again. i know. i am one of them. make my living off of others' flesh. joke with those that are dieing, 'i'm sorry, but it happens to all of us.' for some reason they look at me and laugh as well. their beacons of spirit only dime store flashlights with leaking batteries. they have accepted the viscious kicks like one accepts strangers on a lonely day. i don't know, but i do not think this is paradise. i have never been more miserable. i dream of snakes & pistols. pray for hurricanes & tsunamis. hope that i will get hit by a car. this isn't living. this is barely endurable. where is my old friend, absurdity? where is my perch on the moon's perspective? where is my hunger and fight and anger? i need it dearly. O lord, i truly do. where is my heart and why am i so afraid? what have i lost? so i turn to you my friend. i know i am a whore and a follower of great sin. i understand my failings so greatly that every breath carries shame. my torture does not delight me. i am no longer curious where it takes me. i no longer desire clarity & ecstasy. i desire sleep. i desire a gentle cartoon & soft laughter. this is why i look to you. you will help me. you are the truth of the word. the manifest of creation. the sweat of a million souls yearning to be free. the simple sweetness of poetry. i am listening. yes, i hear you. go get a beer, yes i understand. watch tv & jack-off, okay i will. quit my job? okay, alright. shake my head & say i'm sorry, this can be arranged. miss my wife? O man, i can do that one very easily. and i can kiss the sun, pound on my head, and fart at the grocery store. and i can dance naked in front of the mirror, dream of fried chicken, and think of my grandmother. and i can smile at all the other madmen, and dream about having a child with my beloved, and take a midnight swim in shark-infested waters. and grow fat and hairy. and drink 65 buckets of coffee, pass water, and touch the star of my anus. and i can also write the word, innocent. a liar maybe, but still i can write the word, innocent. slightly touched maybe, but maybe innocent. thank you for your time, i appreciate it... © Robbo