The Breakfasts Of Poet by John D Robinson


Bradley Mason Hamlin
sometimes breakfasts on
3 bloody marys
and maybe some punk rock,
I like to ease and ooze
myself into the day with
some codeine and hash and
the mighty Sibelius and
leave the uncorking until
the evening;
I guess Bukowski
breakfasted on beer and
Steve Richmond
with heroin and gagaku
with heroin,
grass and codeine and
Miles; Sketches of Spain,
With red label Johnnie Walker,
silent t.v and jazz,
Ray Carver
took it sober for the last
decade of his life listening
to the sounds of ordinariness,
Dan Propper
sprinkled his mornings with
nicotine and benzedrine
and be-bop,
Robert Desnos
forgot all about breakfast and
listened to evilness,
Bob Kaufman
feasted on poverty and love
and drugs and booze and jail
and the swings of jazz,
Jack Micheline
breakfasted on anything he
was offered in kindness to
the music of compassion,
Pedro Juan Gutierrez
on sex, rum and cigars and
silent typewriters,
Dan Fante began the day with
an orgy of wine and vodka and
cocaine and pornography and
listened to the insanity inside
his head,
but always a poet’s breakfast
is a reflection, a melancholy
a regret and sadness of how
we’ve fucked things up for
one another,
every morning, the same
fucking thing for

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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