My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

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

July 27, 2012

one last poem

Im flossing my teeth drunk
Not because someone told me to
Im taking care of myself

July 10, 2012

quittin time

20 years ago when someone was having a good time they’d say, “I wish I had a camera!” No one had a camera except rich people and photojournalists. The rest of us had to talk about the event repeatedly so as not to forget it. Memory was verbal. Of course, people like me kept a diary. We wanted to be writers. I started blogging in March 2004. 8 years. I’m going back to keeping a diary.

I wish I didn’t have a camera. Or a cell phone. I’m tired of this side of life. Facebook makes me irrelevant.

As an example, the cobbler versus Payless Shoe Store. A cooper vs Tupperware. I’m a candlestick maker at a Pink Floyd laser light show.
It’s time for me to stop blogging.

If you’d like to receive a newsletter in the mail, I’m considering going back to that format. Let me know if you’d sign up for a mailing list. Or writing a book about The Flagpoles. Would you like to read that? I’d like to write it.

But my heart is no longer into this place. Tough guy poetry and manly stories of loneliness are behind me. Thanks for all the support along the way.

July 2, 2012

dead man deals

An old friend sent along this beauty.

twist and shout


Is this reading? My normally abnormally white skin is yellow as uncooked chickenfat with exploded blood vessels crackled throughout.

This is the result of a karaoke dance tragedy Thursday night. The worst part was the terrible sprain, but I was holding a Dark and Stormy with extra lime in my hand, a fresh pour, and as I fell, I threw the drink into my face. Citrus combined with alcohol blinded me completely for several seconds as I fell to the dance floor.

Witnesses presumed I’d been possessed by the mighty spirit of the lord or suffered a seizure. My screams and the clawing at my eyes were also misconstrued to be part of an awkward dance of flailing pantomimes of winged dinosaurs.

The crowd was divided but entertained.

“What song did you sing?” a friend asked in one of the numerous retellings.

It was, honest to goodness, Twist and Shout. How prophetic.

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