HE’S EVERYWHERE

“but she fucked other

guys anyway, mostly his

friends and he didn’t

have a fucking clue

about this;”

art by Tony Citelli  poetry by John D Robinson

HE’S EVERYWHERE

 

Without doubt, he was the

most obsessive, possessive

and aggressive and paranoid

and unpredictable sociopath

I have ever known;

every word emitted from

his mouth was a negative,

a vile or coarse

put down of his wife or

his children and it was

always done with a childish

sense of humour; he was

driven by something ugly

and he would telephone his

wife a dozen times a day

and ask where she was and

was she with anybody and

had she spoken to any

men and when he kindly

permitted her a rare night

out he would, upon

her return, inspect her

knickers for sex stains;

it was okay for him to fuck

other women but this

attitude didn’t apply to

his wife as far as he was

concerned;

but she fucked other

guys anyway, mostly his

friends and he didn’t

have a fucking clue

about this;

he fathered 4 children

and at various times

threw them against

walls or to the floor and

threatened to cut the

brakes on their bicycles

and shredded favourite

clothing and smashed up

toys and computers and

other precious things

that his children enjoyed;

he was of a big stature

and of a low intelligence

and he was scary at times

and he’s your next door

neighbour, he’s your

father or brother, he’s a judge

or a road-sweeper or a

banker or a social worker

or a chef or a policeman

or a farmer or a shop

worker or miner or a

lazy son of a bitch;

he’s everywhere and the

chances are; you know of

him already.

PRETTY BOY

He was one of the most

prettiest cats I have ever

seen; splattered with

white and cream and

freckles of black and

ginger fur; large soppy

yellow eyes and he

had one of the most

loudest of cries ever

given to a cat;

and we didn’t have a

cat-flap

and he’d scream to be

let in and he’d scream

to be let out

and it was a shrieking

ear stabbing cry and it

could piss-off people

very quickly;

one afternoon I was

with a book and radio

when I heard Jazzy

wailing outside;

I got up and opened up

the door

as I did

I saw his lovely fluffy

white arse run down

the path;

moments later he

returned screaming,

I got up and opened

up the door to see

his little ass disappear

down the path again;

this was repeated 2

or 3 more times

and then finally, I

pulled back the door

and shouted

‘cunt’

and then looked up

from the vanishing

tail of Jazzy into the

face of my neighbour,

Slobby Bobby

and he looked back at

me shocked and hurt

like he was a victim of

some terrible fate;

I scrambled a smile

at the fat fuck,

stepped inside,

slammed the door shut

and then turned

up the volume on

my radio.

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