I have loved me
some men, Lord:
me always in
The redheads and
where are they now,
I wonder —
wretched without me,
So, who is this twit
with a mind of
Does he know I
Will you tell him,
in a dream,
as a dazzling insight?
Will you whisper
he mustn’t hurt
That he, please, please
mustn’t hurt me.
(c) Rob Goldstein August 1991-October 2019
Portrait of Rob Goldstein, based on a photograph by Nina Glaser
(c) Rob Goldstein 2019
Crazy Mothers, crazy fathers, everyone saving each other,
hysterical calls to cousins who call uncles who call brothers;
from San Francisco to Michigan, everyone knows you’re not
I don’t know what Michigan looks like.
I imagine a perfect square.
There are thousands of squares in Michigan called
There is a lake: its waters flow from corner to corner.
(c) Rob Goldstein November 08, 1984 All Rights Reserved (Revised 08/26/2019)
To my friends in Michigan. I’ve have seen Michigan. It’s beautiful.
I was under powerful witchcraft and hoped I was possessed.
I thought of little Reagan; the tricks he did with the crucifix.
He was light in the head and rose by circumstance.
Were I novelist, I’d have written a story, but instead I spun
and spewed garlic.
Judy asked if I was trying to vomit and I snarled, “No! I need a
Judy said what I really needed was a time out until I learned
I’m starting to think Judy doesn’t love me.
The staff carried me off before I could levitate.
Rob Goldstein (c) 2017 All Rights Reserved
Note: Seclusion is a nursing intervention defined as the solitary containment of an agitated patient in a fully protective environment.
I roam the slums of a jungle;
It is hot and I am always thirsty.
I drink from the
It’s magic quenches
At 3 AM savage
jabber and howl.
“Who do you love most,” asks God.
“Jayne Mansfield,” says Max.
“And why is that?” God is so cleverly all-knowing.
“She’s dead.” Max replies.
(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2017 All Rights Reserved