Hemingway

Back
in school
they
taught us
English.
They
tried to
tell us
about
The Masters.
We'd
chain-smoke
in front
of brick
buildings
and stare
at girls.
We needed
an education.
They
made us
take notes.
It was
all
very serious.
I don't
know what
art is:
her hair
was art,
the shape
of her lips
was art,
the way
we kissed
on warm,
drunken nights
was art.
I throw
my cigarette
into
an ashtray
and walk
to class.

Vistant Lit

One of my poems, "Date", has been published on Visitant Lit. You can view it here: https://visitantlit.com/2018/09/18/date/

Burgers and Fries

I walk
into
McDonald's
and order
my food.
Sweat
drips down
my forehead;
the summer
heat
is melting
my
neighborhood.
The girl
behind
the counter
is young
and
beautiful.
Her eyes
radiate
a tired
energy.
She has
the look of
minimum
wage.
She seems
like she
wants
to throw
down
a tray
and scream.
I want
to scream
with her.
She hands
me
my food
and I walk
to the
corner.
I sit there,
eating
in silence,
as old men
walk
in and out
the door.

Hangover in Paradise

I stand
next to you
and order
two shots.
The neon
lights
behind
the bar
are so bright
they
blind me.
I take
my shot:
someone
plays
classic rock
on the
jukebox.
I light
a cigarette
and grab
your hand.
Two old
drunks
talk
and laugh
in the corner. 
I kiss
your neck
and look
into
your eyes.
You
and me,
kid,
we're
doomed.

Keep St. Pete Lit

This blog was featured on the Keep St. Pete Lit website. This is a great new resource for writers in the St. Pete/Clearwater area. You can view me here:
http://keepstpetelit.org/r-j-zeman/

Emeralds and Smoke

I wake up
in the
darkness
and walk
outside.
I check
my e-mail
and her
Instagram:
there is
a new
photo
of her,
soft
and pure.
I sit
down
and light
a Pall Mall.
Birds
fly over
my head;
the sky
is dark
and grey.
I think
about
how there
is nothing
left
for me.
I think
about
her eyes,
green,
wild
and alive.
A light
rain
begins
to fall.
I mash
my cigarette
into
an ashtray
and walk
back inside.

Quail Bell

One of my poems, "Name", has just been published in the newest edition of Quail Bell magazine. You can view it here:
http://www.quailbellmagazine.com/the-unreal/poem-name-by-rj-zeman