Rose Buds by John D Robinson


He lovingly grew beds
of red roses,
he cheated on his wife
he neglected his children
he was hostile and
dismissive of his
he was rude and ugly
and rumoured to be a
and first chance I got I
got drunk and destroyed
the only thing he really
cared about and I
trampled them down
good and in the
morning I awoke to a
mayhem of loudly
raised voices and threats
and vile accusations
between my mom and
this asshole neighbour;
I looked down beside
the bed and saw my jeans
shredded at the ankles,
whilst outside, below my
bedroom window,
my dear
ma screamed at the
neighbour that her son
had nothing to do with
the destruction of his
fucking roses.

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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