Poetry: At Ease

His presence, persistent,

I am the curvy wall

under blankets, pressed to black,

but how

these swollen bruises.

He says

I’m his tough little girl

his half-baked boy

his meat

                (c) Rob Goldstein 5/5/1993-02/28/2019

 

 

 

Our Dolls Die with Us

This is

reality

ersatz

savage:

We live

in fear.

Our

present

is a future

past–

Our dolls

die

with us.

Rob Goldstein November 17, 2018