the poetry that matters

Kate Robinson

Kate Robinson is currently attending Bennington's MFA program. Her poetry has appeared in the Walkabout and Open Field.

rats in the grass  *or drunk texting


ts on ourwalkhome frm the bar

the night b4 i finly gav e up the monstr

the nite b4i strted to requ ire atelevisionon 2 sleep


ats, ifu spit onadumpster wil cumout in2 the prking lot

nd ucan c. em doin their ra tty thing iwas teling uwhat 2 read nxt


and uweres aying goeasy, easy there

woahgirl,   easy      sugar cube? Ndall isaw was theglas mybigsisterfellinto

tearing off agud7inches ofhertanned elbow 4armskin


rats in the gras patches minicityyards looking on as ilicked herwound

nd we let ourheadsbak and welaughed up sum sadmagi c




and then you thought

finally I can just eat some ice cream


in peace



trying to hold the spoon is difficult

when you're bleeding all over your hands


and your ankles are still tied together-

but the man and his wife


have left you to your own devices

at least for a few godly hours


and that is your reward for all

the days, maybe even weeks of good behavior


and with your chaffed wrists you can pry open the freezer

or the front door


at least you know what's behind one of them

and so you set about breaking the padlock on the freezer door


with the man's hammer he left in the basement

right next to your cot


you swing at the thing

and it breaks on the first try


and when the icy smoke spills from that

sacred box, you can see the kelly green of the thin- mints


purchased from roving gypsies months ago

and the silvery sheen of the cubic 6 pack-


what wouldn't you do for a Klondike bar?

there is very little you would not do for a Klondike bar.


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