kneel into
self
as thick as
quicksand
or time
as short as
life
this mind: fritz!
still soft
words
then,
dreams of me
on the young
streets
at dusk,
reaching
for night.
(c) Rob Goldstein 2014-2019
kneel into
self
as thick as
quicksand
or time
as short as
life
this mind: fritz!
still soft
words
then,
dreams of me
on the young
streets
at dusk,
reaching
for night.
(c) Rob Goldstein 2014-2019
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
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