He Never Asked Me by John D Robinson

No doubt the man was
convinced I was having
something with his wife:
for whatever reason he
never asked me direct
but dropped little word-
bombs of his suspicion
which were without
truth:
his wife and I had
experienced a great deal
together but fucking
wasn’t one of them,
everything else but
fucking:
I didn’t tell the asshole
this, I let him keep on
guessing and he died
never knowing if I’d
fucked his wife or not
and all he had to do was
ask me and I would have
told him ‘She loves you
man, we’re friends, sex
has nothing to do with our
love, it’s beyond that’
but I think maybe he’d
not understand this
being the outdated macho
silent brooding bullshitter
that he was.

John D Robinson 2
John D Robinson born in the UK in 63, is a published poet; ‘When You Hear The Bell, There’s Nowhere To Hide’ (Holy&intoxicated Publications 2016) Cowboy Hats & Railways’ (Scars Publications 2016); a contributor to the 2016 48th Street Press Broadside Series; his work appears widely in the small press and online literary journals including Rusty Truck; Red Fez; Outlaw Poetry; Bareback Lit; Degenerate Literature; The Commonline Journal; Haggard & Halloo; Beatnik Cowboy; Boyslut; Anti Heroin Chic; In Between Hangovers; Grandma Moses Press; Yellow Mama; Hobo Camp Review; Eunoia Review; Zombie Logic Review; Rats Ass Review; Sentinel Literary Quarterly; A Cavalcade Of Stars; Dead Snakes; Hand Job Zine; Horror Sleaze and Trash; Outsider Poetry; Your One Phone Call; Spokes; Grandma Moses Press; Down In The Dirt Magazine; Walking Is Still Honest Press; Poems For All: The Sunflower Collective: he is married and lives in the UK with his wife.
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