Posts Tagged ‘Robert F. Gross’



he’s such a pain out there on the asphalt puking

we’re so buff sunscreened sleek ready for Gay Pride

junked-up scarecrow tinder box of a geezer dumpster crazy

sort of guy who doesn’t  take his meds piss-stained and mumbling

humping the roughcast a creature of brownsites

blackouts out of style out of touch out of mind

nothing he knows counts nothing he’s done’s remembered

no one he’s fucked survived to tell the tale

bones all poking out angular chest scars heart brain scars

dick a dried up stem of last year’s jack-o’-lantern


he blinks and wheezes stares and spits

scratches his balls belches a crazy laugh


I’m outta here


like a landmine he ruptures the smooth deathscape

of August afternoon one fiery ejaculation shot across the ecliptic

stallions aflame an Apollo with the balls to be so old

so gaunt distended crazy so totally uncool


we reach out for blessing jerk back

jerk off thick gobs of blood and cinders

like somebody deepthroated a red-hot chisel

ecstasy jismed out of sight out of it totally

leaving us standard deviation gays

stranded in the dark of too much light


Elijah’s come and gone

Regimen Post Mortem
be meticulous if you
have a problem with blood

for all its apparent dislocation
fracture and repudiation
the odor of disinfectant
that sticks to clichéd phrases
the porno quests of film stars and principessas
reanimating the dead comes easy

relentlessly democratic slogans
authoritarian instincts
death squads proliferate
in the manure of a black gelding

the night sky bleaching in cast-off cities
restless in imperatives business cards
universal happiness agendas
proof-read with blood

stand in the laundry room
jam the screen door shut
gape into the uninflected
zombiescape and never suck
anything with death in its name

The room seduced the sympathetic viewer

on one side the world
on the second the devil
and on the third
the curse of God’s wrath

one luminous paragraph
in a great darkness
one stage in a procurement
of aesthetic discovery
anguishing and fire source

the great floating circumflex
the way it in turn altered
the modulations of the sequence
shifted the reticulations of the force
and changed hell into heaven

Dialectic Hook-Up
as the blond guy dropped
to his knees
an expression

of hermetic fantasy
between his legs
I couldn’t hold off

I wanted both
ubiquitous and profane
household objects

one after the other
simultaneous negation
inside me

this alchemical animal
going a mile a minute
hot enough to slam

reality itself
lips parted tongue
against a shattered vision

the tiled wall
of the world pulled
deeper into his crack