Once Upon A Time in Honfleur (Long Story Short)

1 Dec

Tried my damnedest to make it to the Erik Satie museum out in Honfluer. Trains were running funky because it was a Sunday and I ended up stranded in some podunk town that resembled something out of American Werewolf in London. To top it off, it was cold and rainy. Ended up sneaking onto the Paris bound train accompanying this pregnant French woman who spoke good English and smoked bad cigarettes. I swore I’d never go back to France, but to this day I wish I had made it to that museum.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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CD Warehouse

11 Nov

“You ever listen to Coltrane?”

 

“No.” replied sheepishly.

I’ve heard of him but never actually listened to him.

This was an embarrassing admission.

Being in college made it seem necessary

to be listening to jazz

and not the smooth stuff that my mom listened to

over the radio

 

This clerk, Brian had similar tastes as I did.

Chances were that I’d dig whatever he recommended.

 

He handed me a copy of Greensleeves

to take back to the listening station.

As soon I as I put the headphones on and pressed play,

The world outside my brain synced up.

 

The rain fell in a rhythm and the passing automobiles

became its melody.

The people walking by cowering under their umbrellas

became percussion.

Life was finally starting to make sense.
~Edward Austin Robertson

Norman, OK

23 Oct

Something felt off about the whole night;

triggering a reaction within my psyche

lying there on the couch listening

to John Paul Jones play the Mellotron.

 

She only confirmed it–

I was surprised not one bit–

when she admitted to me later

of her mild transgression.

Although initially it felt

like a punch to the gut,

that news was much easier to shake off

than the stuff that came afterward;

which was really threw me for a loop.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

ADP

11 Oct

It was basically the worst peep show of all time.

Coming back repeatedly just to see

the same barista–

I was spending all my hard earned cash to catch a glimpse

of some bare wrist, or naked nape, possibly even some upper thigh

in exchange for expensive coffee and mediocre cuisine–

a brief show that ended

almost as soon as I received my change,

my signal to give up my place in line.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

For Real or For Play?

11 Oct

Is it possible

that you were just feigning modesty

when you shyly looked away

from my gaze?

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

The House on Tennesee Street

30 Sep

Nuclear Polio Vaccination

Too close to one of my worst years to be one of my best years

but it was certainly one of the liveliest,

most pivotal of my adulthood.

It was my reaction to a period of deep dissatisfaction.

My brother went off to fight in the war and

my professional mistakes bled into my personal life.

No longer certain of my purpose,

I reversed direction

and spent a year shirking responsibility–and delinquent payments—

taking a massive pay cut to sort things out

in a long overdue gap year.

I leaned into being in that small town.

Remaking Dangerfield’s “Back to School” in my head

and taking advice from Bill Lee and Bill Murray.

Back to square one.

I rediscovered my joy through play and paint:

kicking and shooting and passing and jumping and sweating,

smiling and laughing and dosing; popping and locking, ponging and bonging,

puffing and sipping, napping ,fapping…

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Blizzard pt. 2 (For Kilkenny’s)

30 Sep

The streets were all mine.

The only cars on the road were buried.

the crisp night spread out

into a white blanket of peace.

 

Breathing deeply,

walking alone

“On Guyot” playing in my earbuds

craving a mutual smile

a wink, a flirt, a hug,

a warm beverage

or even the mere threat of a kiss.

I had just the place in mind.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson