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Scars Publications

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This writing was accepted for publication in the
108 page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/book

While the Waves Crashed
cc&d, v274
(the Aug. 2017 issue)

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While the Waves Crashed

Order this writing
in the issue book
Nothing
Lasts

the cc&d
May-August 2017
collection book
Nothing Lasts cc&d collectoin book get the 4 page
May-August 2017
cc&d magazine
issue collection
6" x 9" ISBN#
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On a Rainy Day
(the 2017 poetry, longer prose
& art collection anthology)
On a Rainy Day (2017 poetry, longer prose and art book) get the 298 page poem,
longer prose & art
collection anthology
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Perfect Rest

Robert Ronnow

Yr cancer is inevitable as love.
You didn’t last forever. The pain
wasn’t the main problem, unconsciousness
was. Dad cannot see or hear,
the walls of the house contain just dust,
that’s it, and if he shows up as a ghost
I’m lost, all my theories false.

Dr. Cherry certified my cancer as a cyst.
A drupe, a stone, a past mistake.
I left the examining room elated,
and have gone on to conflate my happiness,
relief, with that of the whole village.
The message is: to the east and west, the self
which is carried around as a pound of garbage.

“I like to be kissed before I’m fucked.”
And what is poetry anyway. Its role,
local and global. Well, I for one have no
friends or family sufficiently interested
to come to a reading. Don’t take offense,
we prefer novels, and especially movies,

coffee, sugar, oil, parrots, ponies, you
name it. Seven goes to six. Prices
bust and burst, but life (and school) goes
on, or whatnot. Atomic bubble gum. Protein computer.
Grass roof. Sun spot. Perfect error.
In the mirror where everybody hides the body.

Finally, I have been going for walks, girls
with protection dogs, black flies in my eyes.
Peace of noon, bird siesta. August returns,
the snow flies. Did you survive summer,
beat the reaper? I hope so, and yr fern allies.
Perfect rest is priceless, paradise.



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