During The Last Week by John D Robinson



Ricky, the carpet-man
said to me that he was
‘living the dream’
though he looked
fatigued and could
barely raise a smile;
one of my asshole
bosses said that he
‘Was not too shabby’
but I see that he was
clearly deceiving
Simon, a young factory
labourer said that he
‘was trying to make it
but gave no further
Tom the gardener
said that he
‘Could be worse’
and of course he’s
damn right,
Murray monster the removal
guy told me that
‘It’s hellish, a different
hell every fucking day’
and I could see through
his thick black/grey
pirate beard that he was
speaking his truth;
Carmelina, after reading
a poem that mentioned
her beautiful breasts said
to me
‘How would like it, if I
wrote about your dick
all over the internet?’
Quietly, I thought, it’d be
okay , providing it was
complimentary, but I said
‘I couldn’t give a shit’
Jean, a long retired bank
exec said that she
‘wanted nothing more
than to die’ but she
didn’t have the
‘Courage or imagination
to kill herself’
and I could even see
death looming
and waiting
in her shadow
that rested
against a blank wall
behind her.

C_UsersJohnPicturesJohn-D-RJohn D Robinson was born in 63 in the UK; his poems have appeared widely in the small press and online literary journals including; Rusty Truck; Red Fez; Hobo Camp Review; Rats Ass Review; Down In The Dirt; Yellow Mama; Outsider Poetry; Chicago Record; Horror Sleaze and Trash; BoySlut; In Between Hangovers; He is a contributing poet to the 2016, 48th Street Press Broadside Series.

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