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Lagniappe Submissions Anthony Robinson likes old punk rock, cheap wine, strong coffee and girls whose names begin with K. He is a graduate student in Eugene, Oregon, where he teaches, writes, and spends far too much times in mid-priced ethnic restaurants and musty old bookstores. |
When on high, we wandered Babylon, cruised parking lots, Circle K, the Church of Christ, in a Ford Centurion. We built a conscience, when on high, shower steam and yellow beer, Abbey Road, and raw green tea, the lusty devil in the mirror! When on high, I couldn't tell my ass from a hole in the ground. Red-haired women mull around, singing songs of Ezra Pound. When on high one night in 1995, we made love like jackals on the floor. The Hamlets and the Prufrocks had gone home; I didn't hear the slamming door. At the conjunction of beauty and evil, we stood on high, on a grid nine times nine, pulling cantos from the evening sky. Anthony Robinson  Home
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Your sole contribution to the sum of things is yourself.
-Frank Crane
Anthony Robinson's work has appeared in Lynx, Gravity, Tintern Abbey, Beauty for Ashes, the Alsop Review, and several other journals. La Petite |
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