ANTHONY ROBINSON

 


Mastery of a thing and its particulars                                          dim clouding hanging
            into you all at once             centrifugal force a dynamism blow-dried

Donne,               not getting a bathhouse vibe. I wrote a dissertation then I tore
it up.       Petals on the gurney.                      Stopped fearing death stopped

fearing sonnets we aren’t writing                               drew a bath forensically
first bright day first sun                         in weeks & smothered                 her forehead

his anklebone fashioned into a weapon                                     semester grades posted
on a billboard             hangs over El Cajon Boulevard                            my hive, my buzz

leather coats      product placement                            commerce between us

 


TYPO 13