ROB PLATH

..................................................................................................

The Poetry Of...
Rob Plath......................................................

my poems are thieves & vandals

i want
my poems
to be
thieves
that
breach
the
reader's
brain

steal
the
parts
that are
lies
illusions

& then
vandalize
the trap
door
to
their
unconscious

make
them
see
what
i
deal
with
24/7

if they
want
generosity
of
spirit
they
can
go
sit
on
a
crucifix
&
spin

murderer vs. murderer

i try to suffocate Time
w/hundreds of cigarettes
but it eventually unreclines
in the cloud of smoke
& is back again

after that its knees buckle
beneath my beer bottles
i think got it this round
but then i hear clattering
& Time arises
from the pile of empties

i attempt other measures
mozart & bach place it
in a coma for hours
but the son-of-a-bitch
opens its eyes half way
thru one of bach's fugues

i then pelt it w/pills
slash it w/the knife of NOW
but we have a pro on our hands
not only a expert in torture
but a killer itself

right now i've bludgeoned it
w/the keyboard
shanked it w/my stanzas
but it will get up & pull
the sentences out of itself
& slowly move towards me

until it calls in the worms

i
keep
pistol
whipping
the
universe
w/the
abc's

i keep
kneeing
it
in
the
guts
w/
the
keyboard

it
will
eventually
win

but
i
won't
quit
till
it
calls
in
the
worms

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