He was hurting—possibly reeling.
Thinking a trip down to Austin
could cure his ails
He and the old perky blonde
with big tits and a fake tan
bought floor tickets to watch
3 old Jewish dudes in Adidas sweatsuits
jumping around
and rapping on stage.
Just the fix he thought he needed.
The show was good
and the head was amazing
but it didn’t make him feel any better.
In fact nothing would.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Jeff had every brand of Jordan tennis shoes ever known to man
and most of the Nike shoes of that era.
He had every G. I. Joe ever created
and best of all,
he had an adjustable graphite backboard
that we could dunk on when we pulled it down to 8 feet.
He even had a great porno stash.
His dad owned a baseball card and his mom
bankrolled the family as a hotshot lawyer.
She looked like a poor man’s Geena Davis.
I always hoped to catch a glimpse of her in her lingerie
whenever I spent the night over there.
Hanging out with him came at a price though.
He was goofy and asinine
and frequently tried talking us guys into playing naked freeze tag
in his enormous two story house
(I’m very proud to say he never succeeded).
This white boy would pull his pecker out
and slap it against his stomach
while watching “Saved By the Bell” on his couch.
Hard to believe I ever had a friend like him.
Today I wonder about those weird days
and what could possibly become of a guy
who grew up fingering his cat’s butt hole for fun.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Her birthday was on September the 11th
now known as 9/11.
Her parents forbade her to date outside her race
but every night during our senior year in high school
I’d come home with a piece of chicken in one hand
and my dick in the other to enjoy the dirtiest and filthiest phone sex,
only to sit awkwardly next to her in English class 3 times a week.
Once I was foolish enough to let my friends listen in on us
(the only time I ever faked)
and they paid me back by telling her what I did.
She cut me off after that.
But hers was the first female orgasm I’d ever heard
outside of porn,
before I’d had a chance to have any real sexual experience.
I never thanked her for that.
That is until today.
The third line was chopped out for the two of us to share
but the garage door distracted us long enough
for my 15 year old brother to
sneak the rail off the kitchen counter.
It was on.
Never drove so confidently in my life
listening to “Badge”
giving him a ride home later.
It didn’t last long though
and soon I was in misery
sniffing coke off the basin of the toilet
eating weed out the bag because my pipe was busted
and I had run out of papers.
Watched helplessly as the daylight bled onto the walls
of the living room
the day’s sun threatening to arrive before I could get comfortable.
Had I known where my mother kept her .44
I’d have shot myself just so to get some shut eye.
My jaws hurt.
My nostrils were irritated
and my throat felt severely burnt
a chalky taste of phlegm and drainage.
The last time I did cocaine
was the last time I’d do cocaine.
~Edward Austin Robertson
1.
My baby blue vehicle from 1987 got me around Dallas
like a “Midnight Cruiser” admiring the skyline
escaping my troubles
by becoming the Talk Show Host and Wu-Tang Clan hype man.
Carrollton to Grapevine
Lewisville to Duncanville
Cedar Hill to Allen
Garland to Flower Mound
for this girl and that girl.
Eventually the car broke down and all I could do was walk away
My problems I could always drive away from
but now my car was one of them.
2.
My older cousin had a beautiful smile
that he loved sharing with all the ladies in his life.
He was a smarmy but cool devil.
I once stabbed him in the hand with a pencil
because he wouldn’t stop teasing me.
When things were calm between us he’d come
over to play video games before heading to his girlfriend’s house down the street.
I only saw the hugs
never the drugs
and I’m still naïve enough to believe
that he didn’t deserve the fate
that awaited him outside the door to his home.
It left me more perplexed than sad
and still seems rather unfair.
3.
Uncle Bobby died in his sleep
in some far away city
alone in a hotel room.
He was my favorite because he was fun
super laid back
and never gave me shit.
We both liked music, sports, and women
the basis of most of my adult friendships.
The last time we ever hung out was in Austin
eating seafood and doing shots
our last conversation about Lakers basketball.
I said I’d call him soon
but 2 years went by
and my mother phoned me with the unfortunate news.
He was relatively young
but he impressed upon me that
you can squeeze so much out of life
before the age of 44.
In fact I will feel
extremely lucky if I get another 12 myself.
4.
I’d joked for quite some time
that the only thing my father
had given me worth keeping
was a big dick.
Perhaps he held a grudge
because I chose to live with
my mother when it seemed
perfectly normal to do so.
I’d grow to develop grudges
of my own for all the missed occasions and events
moments and conversations.
The tragic apathy I developed
only compares to the attitude
I exhibit towards strangers.
The difference being I have a better chance
to cultivate a relationship with most strangers.
Too late for us.
Too much time has passed
we don’t need each other
at this point in our lives.
He said many years ago
that I’d understand when I got his age
and had my own kids.
No sons of my own yet
but in a way I do get it.
I know what it is like to choose the wrong woman to love.
To have her say that the way she feels has changed.
I know the pain and anguish of rejection
to be denied access to parts
that were previously accessible.
I find it easier to sympathize with the old man.
He must have been terribly alone in his early 20’s.
Mother dead, his father gone and finding himself newly divorced.
It must have been horrible seeing his first born
call another man “daddy.”
Yes. I feel for you old man
as I should have felt for you then
as I feel for myself now.
I’m a little closer to understanding
how you felt and what you went through.
Though I wish to God I didn’t.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Trim
What ever happened
to the good old days
of getting trim?
It was the gentleman’s
way of saying he’d scored.
For example,
“Man I went over
to Sheila’s house
to get a haircut
and ended up
getting some trim.”
Nowadays
you hear something
like:
“Yea she let me hit it.
Yea she let me beat it up.
Yea I got to smash.
I dug in them guts.
I stabbed it.
I got to poke.
I got me some cut-up.”
Listening to these
dudes talk
about sex
will make
you wonder
if there
is something violent
going down.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Bedroom Jollies
One time an ex-girlfriend
and I were
fooling around
while I was battling the flu.
She tried giving
me a hand job
while I was standing
up
and I passed out against
the wall.
It felt so good
I couldn’t
dare ask
her to stop.
That night
was not nearly as
weird
as when
I didn’t
wash
my hands thoroughly
after making a
pizza with jalapeno
toppings.
I guiltily
laughed
when her hoo-hah
started burning
and she immediately
jumped from
the bedroom
to the shower.
It was funny
until my balls
started burning so
badly
that I strongly
considered
dipping them
into a bowl of milk
(I settled for
the sink.).
When it subsided
she and I
went back to bed
freshly washed
to get
down to business.
Another reason
why food
and sex isn’t
always a good mix.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Apollo’s Offspring
From amidst the constellations and half moons
come the ideas and questions
that drive us
to worship the elite company
who’ve stripped down the barest
elements of
math, physics, and chemistry,
holding the keys
to the universe.
~Edward Austin Robertson
in their brains.
Spent the sunny afternoon driving around town
looking for a birthday present
for her.
Struggling to curb my enthusiasm.
Looking at what was ahead of me
the period of time that all my favorite poets wrote about
The phase of life where stimulation, excitement and thrills
segue into stability, focus, and domestication
This was probably the happiest time period of my life
but I wasn’t going to admit that to her
or to myself.
Because it was when you let your guard down
that life hit you the hardest
I wasn’t going to get carried away.
If my cumulative experiences have taught me anything,
it was that you never knew what was waiting around for you
around the corner.
I wasn’t going to get caught slipping,
running around town
smiling like shit was sweet.
But I was happy enough.
She asked me to grade our relationship
I said “right now, a 90 percent. Because we still have room to grow.”
She feigned an appalled look,
as if things were perfect,
or that they could ever be.
I knew plenty of couples who would be happy with an 85 average.
I felt like we were the fortunate ones.
We were in a situation of our own choosing
And still free to pursue lots of dreams together
–albeit with very little time to waste.
Not only was 90 a passing grade
But it is considered an A in most of academia
Under the circumstances, a 90 percent was pretty damn phenomenal.
I knew plenty of couples who’d never even hit 90 percent in one day.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Nuclear Polio Vaccination 