an unashamedly candid look at the fragility and absurdity of the world around us and the lives we create within it. Ben John Smith's epic sprawling train of thought poem is the perfect juxtaposition to the short, sharp, kick you in the gut poems of John D Robinson. A literary dream team like few others." ~ Martin Appleby: Poet : editor & publisher ‘Paper and Ink Zine’
"I’m way more stupid than I look" ~ Ben John Smith Every time me and my wife have an argument about money I buy a Rodney Dangerfield T-shirt with his stenciled face and the words "I don't get no respect" on the front. I wear it around the house for a week unwashed. (cause there is no way I’m going to put that fucking t-shirt in the washing basket, I will never see it again!) Honestly I'm not making that up. I have like 5 different aged whitish yellow T-shirts like this. I can’t argue any more so I just get passive aggressive.. I used all my good words as a young buck. Like an axe murderer in an art class, saying something kind like "Blood can be surprisingly pink, you know?" When I woke up from a dream where I was living another life I immediately wanted to go back to sleep. We finish making love after a hot spring Onsen in Nagano, Japan. She takes a mouth full from a beer can and spits it in the trash The Yama stare from the window; Large, snow capped and seeping smoke a long life like that and they have never seen such a beautiful Woman taken down by such a ridiculous beast My son destroys Origami in quarter of the time it takes to create it and that to me says something about god. My wife called the ruined remains of the Hiroshima castle a romantic place for a picnic and to be fair it was Cherry blossoms children playing. Ground Zero isn’t often a place for a picnic but I would eat a vegemite sandwich here... They dropped an A-Bomb on this place but the Japs still love baseball. I don’t understand that but I really don’t understand many things. Life seriously needs to be have the lights knocked out of its eyes at times.
Poems ~ by John D Robinson
TAKE IT FROM ME Take it from me drugs and wine and sex are and should be the fuel of the muse but they can also be the jailer without mercy can also be judge and jury and executioner: take it from me, god and the devil are one and I’m in love with both, always have been and that’s always been the fucking problem.
KNOWING IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN She had the most beautiful long pair of legs, small shapely breasts, blonde and sexy and she’d call in on me in the early hours drunk and distressed and I’d sit and listen and look at those smooth legs as the mighty Sibelius sounded in the background and she’d tell me of her lousy rotten arguing boyfriends and I’d talk to her and look at those wonderful legs and pour more wine, knowing that I’d maybe get in-between the pages, if I’m lucky, of some shitty poetry publication, but never between those perfect legs of heaven.
LET’S THINK AGAIN It was always going to be heroin that was going to kill him: for 3 decades it was always going to be a heroin overdose death, no surprise, but not cancer, no one thought of that, not cancer, that changes everything, now people have a sympathy for him.
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