The Ending of Night Radio by John D Robinson



In my mid teens I’d lay
in bed late into the night,
a big radio lying across
my chest; it’s cable
stretching and twisting
across and down to a wall
socket and 2 thin leads
dangling down my face
from my head-phones
and I’d listen to the
latest underground music
from the present fucked-up
usually I’d fall asleep
and wake a few hours
later and deal with
putting the radio safely
this night I was awoken by
a world shaking explosion
and a vicious flash of light;
my bedroom door burst open
and I could see my mom
standing in the doorway; I
could see that she was angry
and she was pointing and
shouting but I
couldn’t hear a damn thing
except a high pitched shrill;
my nostrils filled with an
acrid burning smell and the
room clouded in a thin veil
of grey smoke, the sheets
were scorched and my eyes
open- wide with shock;
my mother’s mouth was
still moving but she no
longer looked angry but
smiled as she unplugged
the radio and opened a
window and then she
ordered me to get
out of the bed so
she could
change the linen
and trash the radio.

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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