h o m e........
p a s t   i s s u e s....
s u b m i s s i o n s....
l i n k s

 

 

.........
MICHAEL ROBINS 


.............
Psuedonymously Yours

  

Drove for a town of small reluctance,
another dance reluctantly. The folks
let us forget their nearing festivals
like cheer, a happiest place to praise

ordinariness. Reddened, you weren’t
abnormal in the sinking hues. I was
ticketed, stubbed in your Naugahyde
asleep. Dreamt of a friend, laughter

despite an evening reverie & sadness
rearranged like too much furniture.
For you I’m able, explaining anything:
nosebled histories, rhythms & bone

& last night was relative. It was tame
where you left a letter to fill the future.
Given a chance, I’ll tell you all about
my ugly & my ugliness. My uglinesses.







...........
Instrumental in Their Mouths


  

One to another some men of string.

Updrafts & confetti, bombs juggled
like bowling balls or letdown thuds
left to drown on lust.
                                    The fondness
approved by three kinds of frowning:
passionate, the twenty-first century
hissing, the mooring carbon copied
for other headlines grow abundant.

Light poles breed old conversations.

Last night’s memory like a sombrero,
pins & needles & siestas & the street.

 

 

 

Bio: Michael Robins is the author of The Next Settlement (UNT, 2007), Ladies & Gentlemen (Saturnalia, 2011), and the chapbook Little Felons (Strange Machine, 2013). He teaches literature and poetry at Columbia College Chicago.






 

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