Three Poems by Robert D. Lyons

stepping
into the
shower
and remembering all
the women
the hungover mornings
their eyes
gentle
as they scrubbed my
cock
and back

their hair
heavy
in my hands

the way the
water
dripped
over their
cunts

like rain
over a rose
bud

their hands were so
soft
so compassionate

half dead
they resurrected me
with soap
and a smile

but today
there is only a
single
cockroach
in here
with me

i imagine its
female

but i drown her
with my
hangover

____________________________


breathing the ash
of old wamac
over a dollar fifty
beer

an old town
that has become
new
again

half the town
burnt
to the
ground
forty years ago
they only rebuilt the
dives
and the liquor stores

and it’s the closest thing
ive ever seen
to eden

the gods
sit
on the stools
up front
and speak as they
always have

in a drunken
slur

___________________________


for the past year now
i have been consumed
by the need
to flee
this city

i want to become a
refuge

but im barely
paying
my bus pass

i dream of finding
a city
bathed
not in sunlight
but in shadow
and rain

where the
jobs
and women
are easy

and where the
popping
of bottles
can be heard
as soon as you
step
outside

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