He called as he usually did, his voice sexy and deep, not hysterical, which
he can sometimes get when something’s on his mind, something I have to
ferret out, burying my muzzle in the shit of his psyche.
He said we couldn’t have dinner, that he was broke and, ‘some people have
to work,’ implying something about my life.
He said that I was fine, but, ‘a little too much’ and wondered if I wouldn’t
be happier with someone ‘more complex, more my ‘speed.’
And I said no! No! Simplicity is my goal, what can I be? What would you
like me to be?
“Nothing.” he said, and hung up.
(c) Rob Goldstein 1986-2017 All Rights Reserved
He Said, He Said
Excerpt from a poetry reading with Harold Norse, 1986.
Art by Rob Goldstein 
Bam. Truth, raw and real. I loved it. Felt totally in it.
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Thank you. This is one if my favorite pieces. It’s written for performance.
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Really enjoyed this. I follow Sheldon Kleeman and he mentioned your blog.
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Thank you for your visit and comment! I’m glad you like this!
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Read it appreciate
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Thanks for the visit and the comment! 🙂
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I must have known his clone… Too bad I didn’t push him on out the door the first time he came up with something like that…
Compelling snippet, Rob. Good choice.
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Thanks Teagan. I found a draft of this piece recently and recalled that I had a tape of a reading of it. It’s been ages since I’ve given a public reading.
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I’ve missed you, Robert.
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Hey there! I’ve been thinking about you. I hope all is well.
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