In the Park of the Jolly Meat Beaters

Gary Robinson

There’s no time to lose in this world

made more beautiful by its end so near

—Enrique Lihn

Each has staked out a tree a bench

—children mothers at sunset the day jubilant to be done with

shadows begin their encroachment like a bath house

males ready to trample with the downpour of night

third eye bewildered unblinking

Grass flowers cooling expanding into soft geometries

my mind thinking to pollinate reaches its verses of dry heaves

Men silent dog-faced as a sail of blue stars

though children are immune stripped tragic

dreams milked fragile as bones

Finally I awake to see the crime so plainly so bald

the crime the acts the desperate acts

while panic sprawls has been sprawling

There was Paradise once the garden flooded colors

I understand why the men leave their rooming houses

—escape the colloquies of crematoriums

the park unfetters improvises

takes away the past the future

This is their square foot of absurdity assurance

Mania challenges the hairy sun’s accusations

I am an autistic spasm that arranges the gauntlet

scattered when heaven somersaults into morning

***

Gary Robinson lives in Ottawa, Canada. He has written poems, short stories, and a novella. He enjoys reading and writing. Currently he is working on a new collection of poems and writing a novel.

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Setu, May 2023