Anthony Robinson


 

Fortunately Gone, This Much Given

 

Two decades time erases precisely nothing

Waiting assumes a form

*

First snow of the old year & a small girl, purple Gore-Tex, penciled-in dog left-hand corner;

all the pretty things are taking up space around the corners of those mouths

open hijacked agape

at delphinium              bundled in banners                              smokestacks jettisoned

& three dictators died this weekend

 

O  loving used to be                "I wait for you"

*

Would it be presumptuous to re-title this series "Beatitudes"?

On this, the first evening of the Festival of Lights

                                                                                    <plaster, hinge, zinc oxide>

Geriatrics have been released from their lairs.

Courageous tweet is not necessarily the same thing as outrageous tweet.

*

Baruch atah adonai.

*

"A city of candles."

 

 


 Journaling as Self-Sabotaging Subterfuge

 

I once liked a boy because he was notational • falling off is not a plunge but a sort of leveling out •

black is the new forty •  statements of fact are usually steeped in sentiment •  turn around

*

Catalog of today's best birds:

            a couple dozen juncos

            a very large very black very startled raven

            four fat hens foraging for seed upon a mound of earth

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To all the girls I've loved before:  I didn't really. I only loved you after, actually.

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"After, Actually"  it's either a new book of "linguistically disjunctive" poems or a romantic comedy.

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Over 20 years my spelling has worsened & I've accumulated too many things with cords.

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What do they say?  Chop wood?  Check.  Carry water?  Not yet.

*

Here is where a gorgeous, lyrical passage is supposed to go:

 

 

 

Here is where it ends.    The rest is what they call "white space."

 

 

 

Your Face Is a Glaring Inconsistency

 

Let's all go to the lobby as I've become a smart phone
baling hay into an empty space once called San Joaquin

California wasn't made to be my muse but I like things
cracked as I am a fisher of men

Fandom tries hard to blink but speaks Spanish down the corridor
until some fractured nanny makes it stop.

*

Let's play Family Feud.   Survey says

give up.

*

Stacey's gaze is a thousand credit cards through staggering fog, a key-chain flashlight.

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This coast is a geographical anchor.  

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I do not understand my God—I only hope he makes it back.

*

Survey says

a clean shot.

*

I love you but I can't do both.  The Fibonacci keeps increasing & your face fills the frame with gray-scale pixels, past recognition, discarding visual cues we must go on breath.   Air here is thin.

*

The woman leaned in & whispered,
"I no longer truck in dead-tree media."

Hold on a sec while I print that out.