My favorite
characters
have spilt
my guts
in public–
Now alone
with
my ‘self’
though
I
am
perhaps
a pretty
lie.
The globe
spins for
the sake
of
tradition
Gravity
binds
us to
memories
and visions
of sudden
lingering-
death.
Words and image (c) Rob Goldstein 1986, 2014, 2020
I have loved me
some men, Lord:
me always in
command
as God
intended —
The redheads and
the blonds,
where are they now,
I wonder —
wretched without me,
I guess.
So, who is this twit
with a mind of
his own?
Does he know I
can’t live
without him?
Will you tell him,
Lord
in a dream,
as a dazzling insight?
Will you whisper
he mustn’t hurt
me.
That he, please, please
mustn’t hurt me.
(c) Rob Goldstein August 1991-October 2010
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
doing well.I don’t know what Michigan looks like.
I imagine a perfect square.
There are thousands of squares in Michigan called
lawns.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
fucking exorcist!”
Judy said what I really needed was a time out until I learned
to behave.
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.
Art by Rob Goldstein 