My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

tough guy poetry and manly stories of loneliness
all contents copyright Jon Rolston 2004, 2005, 2006

September 18, 2006


“He’s fuckin worthless. He’ll be two hours late and spend half an hour organizing his truck. And he picks things up all the time, he’s gotta inspect everything. Half the time it’s just a clunk of dirt. Steve says it’s what he’s on. People like that are always wonderin’ what their girlfriend is doing, worried she’s got something and not sharing it with him.”

Locke pulls a bent spoon out of the ground, the field had been a hog farm. Local restaurants came and dumped food and all out for feed. Jags of coffee cups and tea saucers perc up out of the ground.

Planes were flying overhead. The horse was watching us from the far corner of the field, wary of the idled tractors.

“Take it home and make your drugs with it.”

Locke made one little laugh and kept his eyes on the spoon.

1 Comment

  1. I love it when I find fresh works on abandoned farms. Makes the mainlining THAT much sweeter, baby.

    Comment by e. march — September 26, 2006 @ 11:21 pm

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