Poetry for the Hard of Hearing
Published on October 22, 2008 By Johnny Masuda In Poetry


bob’s got two heartbeats

somewhere in redding ca.

the courts take his check every

other week

but the heartbeats can’t be seen through

the wall of a vindictive mother


so he downs a dozen vodkas a night

chased by forty milligrams of synthetic

smack to kill the pain and keep the

blood in his veins


cause the feelings cold and all he wants

is to be warm—even if it’s just for a night.


J. Masuda © 2008

on May 21, 2009

As a fellow Bob I can weave within the truth outside the concrete corridors of the authors cruel heart.  Truth shouldn't be so hard to shed light on.  I piss to think that my mothers paradox was whether to abort or kill me upon the zagged knife of first light.  I survived only because of the antichrist intervention.  My life is perfectly clear, my mission resilient...