Anthony Robinson

Apologia por myne littel boke

I see you there / Midwestern Spanish teacher,

mon frere, my fellow lord & liege,
            purveyor of gewgaw & guffaw,

teacher of fishes, caster of reels,
            justifier of God's ways to men,

curfew enforcer against whom teenage sons rage reckless,
            civil liberties trodden under size eleven Chucks.

Dead authors
                      hate you, purple sweater-vested fancypants!

Hast thou maad swiche divers bokes only to buckle
under pressure of expanding waistlines?--O to be obese!

O to be an obese dragon in the holy land of central Illinois!

I see you there, over by the Breughel prints,
rubbing your ass on the Vermeer,

sucking face with that fusty Paul Klee
                                  (but you're not gay! I know!
it's okay! it's art!)

Trotting along at medium gallop, you look like a man
My mama used to bang, but half as tall & twice as wide.

You fancy the past--history makes us all such freaky icons.

St. Kent of Fredonia, of Freeport & Highland, St. of My Left Shoe, my dumb show,
            my free throw, my favorite Scott Baio facsimile,

                                    take up these leaves and read--

On this piggy snout I swear I am a churl, a gnarl, a piston, a pustule, a boy named Carl

                         tenderly you touch me as a father.