in parentheses

Recent work by Bruce Robinson appears or is forthcoming in Tar River Poetry, Spoon River, Rattle, Mantis, Two Hawks Quarterly, Berkeley Poetry Review, Gyroscope, Tipton Poetry Journal, North Dakota Quarterly, Maintenant, Last Stanza, and Aji. He divides his time in Brooklyn and Albany uneasily among several four-footed and sure-footed creatures.

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Report This Suspicious Poem // Ignore, I Trust This Poem

Let me begin by introducing myself properly
to you, though it may surprise you to receive
this poem from me, since there has been no
previous correspondence between us.

My purpose of contacting you is for you
to help me secure the words left behind by
my late client, to avoid it being confiscated
or declared unreadable by the Book
Where this fund valued (Sixty Five Million
Two hundred thousand English words Only)
deposited by my client before his demise.

This Bank has issued me a notice
to contact the next reader or the account
will be declared unreadable and the fund diverted
to the Book thesaurus; So far all my efforts
to get a hold of someone related
to this man has proved abortive. Hence,
I have contacted you. I am actually asking
for your consent to present you to the Book
as the reader/beneficiary of my late client’s fund,
so that the proceeds of this account can be
writ to your account.

All the legal documentations to back up your claim
as my client’s Next Reader I shall provided them.
All I require is your honest co-operation
to enable us achieve this transaction.

I wish to point out that I want 20% of this language
to be shared among the charity Organizations,
while the remaining 80% is parsed equally
between us. This proposition is entirely unmetered.
I will use my position as the client’s amanuensis
to guarantee the successful executio, wello,
that is to be determined. If you are interested,
please contact me. Laying heavily upon your response,
I shall then provide you with more syllables
and relevant synecdoches to help you
understand this transaction well.

The intended transaction will be executed.
that will protect you from any infection of the law.
Howsoever, if this offends your aural ethics, do
accept my sincere apology. If on the contrary
you wish to achieve this last line with me,
kindly get back to me with your interest for further elucidation.

Kindest,
Regards

Lines at Night

In my sullen art, given a workout
each night when the street is silent
and you know who I mean are sleeping
probably on different sides of the bed,
I’m busy and don’t want to be bothered,
not that I’m doing this to make my name
or even to make ends meet or
to impress the girl who’s not the least bit interested
but really just to get some words down
and fill up another unread and unready
page. I mean, not even for my grandfather,
may he rest without his worries
nor for my aunt still in her bed of anxiety,
but remember those supposed lovers
estranged on a mattress purchased
I don’t know how many years ago?
That’s for whom I’m doing this,
and why should I give a fuck
whether or not they care?

Even the Eyes Have Walls

that are white, red, blind, black,
that turn tender when I walk my dog,
amorous plea of the wide pupil, eyes
grasping my calf, knee, ankle, thigh.
These are dog’s eyes.

Annet is in heat, and I have her odor.
I am almost as lovely to males
as she. I keep her locked up
and have the dogs for myself.
They’ll take what they can get.
You should see what they have to settle for.

Dogs have been whining at my door all week.
A dog’s eye will shine at you in the dark,
it will shine in a spotlight and bark.
There are eyes that hate you,
you can feel them at night,
you needn’t bother telling me. The eye
that is closer to you than the nose,
the eye in the center of a profile,
sneer of lash and brow
glare of cheek and lip.

Thirst
He had always been sincere in his prejudices.
-George Schuyler

Long nights I trusted would never end
and any day I pleased, whenever
it suited me, ‘long as the Barons
were visiting, away from Rickwood

and I’d never have been thirsty because,
you know, I’m not too clear on details.
and if I had the excuse of youth
then, I have the excuse of something

like age now, what a long night it’s been,
just want to say you’re all welcome here,
Monday, Wednesday, all days of the week,
Tuesdays, maybe not so much, but look,

if you’re thirsty for this kind of purity
come down here on 8th; drink your fill.

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