THERE once was a home where love was drunk
say do you know south? it’s near hell on earth
and i like tinker toys a classic toy that brings
grandparents, parents and kids together
–when i was a kid culture was in a dish
of phlegm and raw pain
spools, rods, flags,
washers, and end caps!
and if undetected mental health issues keep people
from bouncing upon rubber-walls
build a windmill! using the hands in life of the body god
gave me! and i refuse to eat after psycho-surgery
tak! tak! talk with me i’m so lucid i cut flowers
with the edge of the burning sun
burning — tinker toys!
aah! away! got a Living
Will and do not resuscitate: everywhere i smell semen
and crushing ovum eggs upon the sidewalk of life!
Ovum-oh-hum-ho-mum
yellow chicks are cute
as flesh-babies just born
Baby breath burn me!
:: 08-05-2015 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
WHEN SUMMER SMELLS LIKE BURNING CHILDREN
Hi so high!
you know me
we go so far
far away we
pretend we live
oh you know me
i love dirty words
kangaroo pouch
were i keep my
secrets and you
are so dirty /words
over ramparts into
the crease of zero
night:we are strangers
to the light and
contagious to the cross
–a symbol of self-assured
knowledge of incomprehensible
meanings::yeah oh yeah
the monster of assumptions
so i gave you a gift of anger
so make it your tower of
meaning, leaning, forceful
living to entertain your
meaning /-/and we are a
pebble in a river
a blemish upon a face
a health condition
in a cardiac ward
so hello hey you oh yeah
feeling stupid and failure
in a trash bin next to
aborted fetus
the world is a puss bucket
of confused thoughts
:: 08-07-2015 ::
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