I’d allowed myself to get lost in the mirth and euphoria
of hula hoops, glow sticks and naked bodies.
We were “jamming on it” to Newcleus under the Hawthorne Bridge,
the night’s air chilling the celebration
of our all city ride to a traffic of cheers.
Seemed like a good idea when the sun was up.
But I forgot pack something to cover myself up
for the long sobering ride back to the (deep) Northeast part of town.
Two words: Poor Planning.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Not only did they replicate it,
but they somehow surpassed
the way the album sounded on my headphones.
Technically I was in the third row,
but with the aisles filled
and no one in their seats
my seat felt further from the stage.
I was actually kind of relieved
none of my friends
came with me,
as I suddenly felt self conscious of my surroundings;
watching these awkward looking geeks
make this euphoric–almost majestic music.
Layers of smokey light flickering
with every chord change.
People swaying to the rhythm of “Talk Show Host”
in their sweaters, blue jeans, and converse shoes.
It felt like I was in a secret club,
and everyone thinking this band’s best song was “Creep”
was missing out on this quiet Sunday evening.
This certainly beat watching the Red Sox on television.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Marble counter tops
and checkered tiled floors.
How can you be in a bad mood
with the smell of waffle in the air
and frozen sugary milk melting in your mouth?
Its impossible not to smile at this point.
~Edward Austin Robertson
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.
My brain need a break and
my psyche needed to shut down.
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, crapping and snacking
shagging and packing, slapping and stroking–and lounging in cut off shorts.
An unsustainable cycle
of coffee, cannabis, naps and payment plans.
I knew at my age that it couldn’t last.
Watching the time evaporate
like the smoke building inside my lungs
and the clouds blowing out of my bedroom window.
~Edward Austin Robertson
It felt like everyone on the subway was talking about him.
I was at the Dundas station heading to St. Clair West
when I found out.
The phone call from her only added to the sense of time and place.
There was the city wide festival
and a surprising summer romance,
but what I remember most was that no matter where I was
for the next two days, someone was playing his music
in their cars, out of the apartment windows, and in storefronts.
I may have even let a tear drop into my corn soup
when Human Nature came on the radio
at the Jamaican spot I was hanging.
Perhaps it was the sad irony hitting me,
that even at the height of his powers
he never really got to freely enjoy the fruits of his labors.
He was finally free now to smile beautifully forever
as a young, black talent where no one could
hurt or disappoint him any longer.
We all collectively failed him
and yet he never stopped giving to us.
Maybe we didn’t deserve him.
~Edward Austin Robertson
My lips know exactly where they want to go
if I were to ever see you again……..
which is exactly why that can never happen.
~Edward Austin Robertson
~
My newest book , “Poems About Lawrence” will be available to purchase in a couple of weeks. You will be able to buy it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Ingram, among other places. I will keep you posted. Until then, have a happy new year and enjoy this playlist that I made while editing the book.
Abrazos,
~Edward Austin Robertson
Cigarette in hand,
drunk on brown liquor, and
exhaling into the slow swampy night.
I found myself finally at ease with the rhythm of the city,
as a wave of understanding washed over me.
I needed more Tom Waits in my music catalog.
~Edward Austin Robertson
A Serious Situation (Life is)
One could win baseball games
trophies, awards and championships.
One can even win the money game
but no one has ever beaten death.
It was a losing battle
one coming in the form of a
grizzly bear
shark attack
house fire
home invasion
cycling accident
plane crash
heart attack
broken neck from slipping in the bathtub,
a peanut allergy
a mugging
innocent bystander in a bank robbery
choking on his own vomit
suffocating from his own fart
and being eaten alive by house cats
or swallowing a whole octopus.
Seemed pointless to worry about it.
If he was going to fully embrace life
then he’d have to fully embrace dying inevitably.
Drinking fresh snow water
melted from the mountain
reinforced everything pleasant
he’d ever experienced in life:
the musical epiphanies
the road trips, birthdays and sporting events
all paled to the natural phenomena
he’d been lucky enough to witness.
He’d seen shooting stars that were so vivid
that their trails trailed off into the Milky Way’s band.
He could still hear the stream nearby rushing past their campsite.
Alone in his tent
his head on a makeshift pillow,
he fell asleep listening to the dying roar and crackle of the
wood in the campfire.
It was quite possible that his life
couldn’t get better than the one he was already living.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Nuclear Polio Vaccination 