New Poetry by John D Robinson

WATCH-OUT

We opened up all the windows

of the moving car, the fly was

ignoring this and flew around

the vehicle, irritating and

annoying:

‘Kill it!’ I said as my wife

swiped at it across the steering-

wheel: the fucker was quick:

I saw it coming towards me, I

didn’t want to murder it:

I karate chopped it with my

right hand, stunning the

thing and knocking it

towards an open window,

instantly, I followed up with

a lightning left back hand

karate strike that knocked

the fly clean out of the car:

it was awesome, it took me

by surprise and I knew this

was a performance never to

happen again, I felt like a

codeine-hash stoned

Bruce Lee;

‘Did you see that?’ I asked

my wife,

‘See what?’ she said,

‘What I did with that fly’ I

said:

‘Fuck the fly!’ she said,

sadly ignorant of my

breath-taking artistry.

THE RUBBER

‘This is awful: can you

help me? I don’t like

this: shit! this doesn’t

help the moment’ I said:

‘Calm down’ she said

‘Let me put the damn

thing on’

with such poise, timing,

touch and sensuality she

put the durex on my

excitement:

it felt odd and alien and

looked hideous:

‘Don’t lose it now’ she

said moving in close and

making the right moves:

and then afterwards,

‘Look at this fucking

thing!’ I said as I peeled

it from my pecker and

then holding the thing up

in the air like a sordid

trophy and then tossing

the thing towards the

trash can, where many

lives can often end up.

BUK AND I

Back in the early 1980’s

I was published in an english

language text book for

german students:

also featured in this

publication was a poem by

Charles Bukowski:

I was paid $15:00 for my

poem:

I don’t know how much

Bukowski was paid for his:

anyhow, for a teenage

poet being between the

pages with Buk

was payment enough.

SHE WAS TAME

She was a little older than

my mother and she had

red-fire hair and she’d

sunbathe in her back

garden in black or purple

bra and panties:

I’d looked at her with

13 year old eyes and

marvelled at her flesh

and shapely curves and

my imagination would

torment me wildly and a

little later I’d hear her

screaming appalling abuse

at her husband and

children, horrid and vile

words that stained the

air and destroyed any

sense of sensuality:

my very first encounter

with a woman with the

body of Aphrodite with

the tongue of the fallen

angel but she was tame

compared to some of the

ladies I was later to meet

THE CONFRONTATION

I was hopeless at the work

and fucked things up; the

foreman cursed me and I

came back with some young

thoughtless comment:

I was grabbed and pulled

away and told to walk

off the site, whilst I still

could and that’s what I

did and my thoughts

played heavy on backing-

down: it’s a bitter taste

but sometimes it just

makes sense to give it up

to avoid a useless

confrontation and defeat,

a beating, the pain and

humiliation: to walk away

and get ready and stronger

and prepared for the

next asshole.