Poetry: Grandma Said

Grandma said

the poor go first,

kids like me,

she said–

if the war

don’t end–

but I was

too delicate,

too pretty,

too likely to kiss

the gook’

if he was

cute.

Rob Goldstein, March 2019

 

 

 

Poetry: The Sleeper

One orange, one Styrofoam cup, one opened
can of tomato sauce, and, used as a pillow,
one King James Bible.

(c) Rob Goldstein 1984-2019

 

Blood and Saliva

Eros smiles seductively

and takes the seat next
to mine.

He caresses my thigh

and whispers a filthy

secret: to know him

is telling

in a thousand

unspeakable

ways.

 

(c) Rob Goldstein November 5, 1985