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CONSULTATION ROOM 1

By John D Robinson

Painting by John D Robinson.

Painting by John D Robinson.

A black and white fluffy
tough-fucker veteran
warrior brawler;
of 16 years;
he’d take no prisoners
and he’d take no shit
but
he was very sociable and
one time he went walk-
about for a couple of
weeks and returned
hungry and limping
with a sliced footpad;
he was almost
mute; he would open his
mouth wide and make
the gestures but no more
than a squeak would be
heard;
and now he was sick,
not eating or drinking,
he had feared nothing
in life, I had seen him
square up to an excited
Rottweiler and challenge
moving
vehicles and noisy garbage
trucks didn’t bother
him none
and I always thought
that following a nuclear
war, only 2 beings would
survive; Rolling Stone
Keith Richards
and my cat
Souly;
I’ve doubts now, he’s
not moving well, his
back legs seem to
have given up
and he looks up at me,
and I can see no fear in his
eyes, only bewilderment,
and his mouth opens and
a small cry leaves his
throat and I lay down
next to him and stroke him
and he purrs loudly as
he’s always done; and
he makes it outside
to toilet, making sure
that; if its the last thing
he does,
he’d shit in the next
door neighbours garden;
just as he’s always done
and he did just that
and he lasted for 3 days;
every moment moving
closer and closer to his
end,
it was time
to let him go;
I took him to the vet’s
and I spoke to
him as the
nurse depressed
the syringe;I said
“Good bye my old friend,
I’ll see you around the corner”
I kissed his face one last
time and then walked out
into the November rain,
my face already wet,
heading
for the supermarket
to buy some wine.

Consultation Room 1, which first appeared in Horror Sleaze Trash magazine, is a poem from John D Robinson’s recently published collection When You Hear The Bell, There’s Nowhere To Hide. In his introduction poet and novelist, John Grochalski writes:

“If you want flowers and sunshine, the work of John D Robinson is not your cup of tea. If you want the simple beauty of poetry, When You Hear the Bell, There’s Nowhere to Hide isn’t your kind of book; though it is beautiful in its own way. What Robinson has done with this collection is present the reader with the hard facts of life. There’s no bullshit just what we cobble together from sun up until sun down. The characters in these poems are the people on the margin: the young woman having a dalliance with a questionable man; the hangover poem that doesn’t know where it woke up that morning; the estranged father and son meeting on their own boozy terms; men and women on the edge of sanity whose only comfort is the bottle, or seeking some other reckless way out of the dull, treacherous struggle we call this life. The poems in this collection are made up of the stuff we do to each other, and things that keep us awake with regret at night.

There’s Nowhere to Hide is a work of extraordinary courage that wants the reader to understand it by going toe to toe. But, if you’re reading this, you’ve got the book in your hand. So don’t take my damn word for it. Open it up and get ready to go twelve rounds with one of poetry’s true pugilist saints.”

When he wrote the above paragraph, John Grochalski wasn’t aware that this excerpt from his introduction would be published in HOT. The book, which has 94 pages and is perfect bound with soft-card covers, costs £10 and can be purchased from Amazon or ordered from any high street bookshop.

John D Robinson was born in 1963 in the UK and lives in Hastings; his poems have appeared widely in the poetry small press and online literary journals: Backback Lit, Red Fez, Dead Snakes, Pulsar, Poet&Geek, Poetic Diversity, Mad Swirl, The Chicago Record, Underground Books, The Kitchen Poet, The Clockwise Cat, Napalm and Novocain, Ink Sweat & Tears, Opal Publishing, Your One Phone Call, The Commonline Journal, Poetry Super Highway, Horror Sleaze and Trash, Winamop, Bold Monkey and Zombie Logic Review.

Upcoming work will be appearing in Yellow Mama, The Beatnik Cowboy, Locust Magazine, The Legendary, Message In A Bottle and The Sentinel Literary Quarterly. He is married with one daughter, two grandchildren, three cats and one dog. He says he likes to drink wine like a fiend whilst listening to classical music.

 

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Posted 18:46 Saturday, Apr 2, 2016 In: Poetry

Also in: Poetry

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