Pain retribution for agonized youth
somber, a parade with full spread photo shoot,
death narrowly averted, hard to digest...
reflux of memories
revisiting chest,
hardened by rope and rod,
how do I erase this place?
Anxiety still lurks about,
waiting to push up pain;
it is a deep well,
I drill holes in the bucket
every day,
and yet I still get a taste.


http://www.robross.ca

What I see is
nothing

What I want is
hiding

What I know,
I don't.

And nobody recalls
anything...

What I feel
is unfelt

What I want is
heart sent

What I hope is
bent.

How I care is
up for rent.
Cheap
*******
Get out!


http://www.robross.ca

Nothing
nothing at all
yet by writing this
I contradict that
and what have I
gained by this
description of
being found?

Nothing
nothing at all
yet because of
perpetual variance
my contradiction
remains the same
I am left with one thought:
"What keeps me here?"
Something in which
I'm truly
Lost and Found.


http://www.robross.ca

The delightful sting
of your words hit
my infected scars
with such force
and pain,you feel it too
but could care less,
for you like to think it only goes on
french fries
not me,
am I as good as they
or do I lie?
about me, you,
and then I again?

I may be bitter
as that which
you pour,
but I don't eat away like
your fluid,as I'm content to keep it
bottled
collecting,
forever or until
my walls are gone.

You love vinegar
on everything you eat eh?
so do I really,
but I don't taste very good with it,
Vinegar is what makes me and
yet it is working
to destroy
what was
what is
and what
might have been
a very good french fry.


http://www.robross.ca

Serenity...
in what was
never "normal"
as normal is a perverse word in "society"
serene perversity is the status quo,
just a serene way of looking at
things with a ****** up face.
It's reality,
not normality.


http://www.robross.ca

To depart on a voyage
to take the wheel
to know how you were crafted
to accept such craftsmanship
to perform your task
to act as you really are
to be able to look at yourself from afar
to be so ******* depressed
so bored out of your ******* aching
body of mind
that you find yourself
screaming out
how can you all be so ******* blind!?
Dead in the water, poor riverboat boy
all this fancy *** equipment
and no one to paddle...
yes a paddle!


http://www.robross.ca

The ball goes down the lane
it clinks on pins
and down they go,
the shoes fit just right
and everyone you know is in sight,
being taught how to spell the letter R
of your name by your great aunt Vi,
seeing your funny aunt Marlene,
being with your grandma Ross,
and going to Sammy's Restaurant
for grilled cheese,
and the pharmacy for pink Trident gum,
all this under one roof.
I run to the lane
the ball goes down the lane
I run to the counter in time
shut off the lane
and CRASH!
no pins fall
the sound of the ball ricochets
from one end to the other;
my mischievous ways fulfilled,
and God I loved the Fanta pop
which my dad, the manager I was
proud of, readily supplied,
the place is now gone
but it's life still goes on
the pins crash even louder,
the disinfectant shoe spray still as smelly,
the oil of the lane still slippery,
and the grilled cheese still as good;
and carried on to the current day...
Georgina would have been proud!


http://www.robross.ca