No Regrets by Rob Dyer

his bravery had moments
his self-loathing was King
his needs were minimal
his words, pure blood

floating paper planes of hope,
he sent his heart
wrapped in manila formalities
despite the sterile guidelines
that erased his purpose

“we regret to inform you…
not our style
thanks, but no thanks
keep writing, someone will get you
who told you this was good?”

so, I tried Hallmark

they said I was too much
they asked me to be nicer
they offered me ideas
they insisted I could, be
they told me to be cool

now standing in the foyer
a dog-eared fedora for cover
with vaulted tears begging release

I felt them breathing fear
when all I wanted was an explanation
and a word with Mr. Hallmark

they never felt my breath
pressing against their carotid lifeline
with nothing but choice
keeping them alive

Rob Dyer
An author and friend told me I was good at telling stories and should write some of them. That was sixteen years ago and I have never finished a single story. Instead, my voice came forward in pieces…pieces of life…mine, yours, his, hers and the unimaginable that happens every day. All I ask of the words, is movement. I have found acceptance in several generous spaces like Mad Swirl, Deuce Coupe, Epic Rites Press, Guerilla Pamphlet and others. ~ I’m so wrong, I write Rob Dyer




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