Distaste:
Sometimes I say,
“That could give me pink eye.”
Other times I shrug.
I very often use the word “hate.”
(And the word “love” half as much,
And less often “like.”)
Like a pendulum,
Hovering a moment at one extremity,
And going directly back to where it’d come from,
To linger and repeat.
Linger and repeat.
Linger and repeat.
----
And he claps giddily at a loaf of bread
She shoved a small dog into an expensive satchel,
And hung it danglin’ from a gold-clad arm.
Unzipping to say, “Isn’t snickers adorable?”
The dog wagged and pissed excitedly,
And the box was jacked again.
At night, when the companion moved about freely,
It would snuggle in obedience with its shopping mate,
Often licking her face.
Robert Louis Henry lives in Tennessee. To stay warm he drinks hot sauce instead of booze. He likes sitting on top of his truck and pretending to play harmonica while his radio blares in gravelly cemetery parking lots. He doesn’t voice his actual opinions in large crowds, and he prefers menthol cigarettes over just about anything. His first novella, “And the Household,” is forthcoming in 2009. His poetry is forthcoming in Night Train. Robert Louis Henry thinks nihilism sounds beautiful.
Robert Louis Henry lives in Tennessee. To stay warm he drinks hot sauce instead of booze. He likes sitting on top of his truck and pretending to play harmonica while his radio blares in gravelly cemetery parking lots. He doesn’t voice his actual opinions in large crowds, and he prefers menthol cigarettes over just about anything. His first novella, “And the Household,” is forthcoming in 2009. His poetry is forthcoming in Night Train. Robert Louis Henry thinks nihilism sounds beautiful.
