A lauded poet as well as an industry expert, Ron’s work has been featured in multiple magazines and journals over the course of his successful career.
Poems
AFTER MIDNIGHT WHEN THE BOYS TALK ABOUT THE GIRLS
by Ron Spurga
“When rape is inevitable, lay back and enjoy it.”
– Anonymous
What does a girl think about right after you fuck her?
It wasn’t that she didn’t have it coming.
Good catholic girls only kissed communion wafers
In moldy confessionals.
Still, he had to worry about his future.
He was going to be a lawyer
Work his way all the way up to the Supreme Court.
He was inside her now.
it was sweet.
She shivered, trembled.
Then fell silent.
He kept her panties
afterward as proof
to his mates he had done it.
She was practice for when he
Was going to bed and wed
a blonde Madonna from Mrs. Porter’s nunnery
More suitable for his station in life.
Years later Mad King Donald would boast
That our Iago was a gift from the Gods
To the Supreme Bench.
For ambition was to be his business
And business was good.
TRUMP TRAMPLES TOTS
by Ron Spurga
“Evil is unspectacular and always human.”
– W.H. Auden’s poem, “Herman Melville.”
Imperialism’s payback is heard in the choked cries
of Guatemalan babies placed in cages aka tender
age shelters along the Rio Grande while flinty ol
Jeff Sessions looking more and more like Mr. Potter
From “It’s a Wonderful Life,” reads the innocents to
sleep not with lullabies but fire and brimstone from the good book.
The Twentieth Century was the American Century.
Our time has come and gone.
The lunatic rantings of a third rate TV reality star
and accidental President notwithstanding.
Into the shoot-em-up history book
We press the smoking revolvers of the founders
of our gun obsession-Oliver North, Clint Eastwood
and other night riding peddlers of my country ’tis of thee crap.
Seventy-five percent of Stuyvesant High School
students are Asian-when they graduate they will return
home to electronically tariff us to death, if the country hasn’t
already plunged into its Second Civil War.
No more let’s make America great again.
Just the stillness of a wasp
nesting on a borrowed tombstone
muffling any cries for help
from the tender age innocents.
Manchild in Nightown
by Ron Spurga
“We did it in the kitchen
We did it in the hall
I Got some on my finger
So I wiped it on the wall.”
– Meri Wilson, TELEPHONE MAN, 1977.
Surpressed grief suffocates
He was seven when his father
Took him to Beach Haven one sunny afternoon
for verehrt.
She was a protege of the Seneca Club.
Buy only shared with important patrons.
Thick-lipped. But the boy saw in her eyes
the terror of what she would be forced to do next.
Years later the boy would think of her
writhing in pain on the floor of that
faux Hollywood bungalow.
His father’s massive frame penetrating her soul
and turning her to embers.
But the lesson had been imbedded.
There were only winners and losers in life.
Years later the boy would become famous for creating the movements against globalism, secularism, and coastal elitism.
Afterward at the bungalow
the boy found himself with an erection.
“Want to put it inside her?” to see what she feels like,
the father asked through choking gasps.
The boy trembled and started to cry.
Maybe next time the father laughed.
They left her face down on the floor.
Naked and shaking and covered in seaweed and sand.
I’m up for Nathan’s.
The father inhaled ten of Nathan’s finest.
But the boy just stared at the ocean.
Remember the first rule of business:
Always Do it to the other guy before he can do it to you.
The boy had lost his hearing.
The valkyries had hardened his heart.
The Cimarron Review
The Cold Six Thousand
by Ron Spurga
The Cimarron Review Issue #152: Summer 2005
The Coachella Review
An Artist Glued in a Stuck Factory
By Ron Spurga
Tick Tock
Tock Tick
Down-sized
Right-sized
Outsourced
Marinara-sauced
Banana-peeled
Peanut-buttered
Fried-egged
Cunnilingussed
White boy
White bread
Pity he shot
himself in the head.
The blues was his business
And business was good.
The Coachella Review, Spring 2010
Homeland Security (Poems by Ron Spurga)
Occupy Wall Street
Bring tent.
And some chairs
To watch Blomberg and Koch steal
A midnight kiss
Before unleashing the
Neocon-Israeli axis
On the children’s crusade
Pepper-sprayed they swarm from Zucotti Park
(Named for a deputy mayor or an STD)
To Tompkins Square
With no equitable allocation of resources to
Show for their pilgrimage
Moma, moma, forget your ples,
J Edgar is bringing up the big screen
With Tom Hayden like it’s
1968 all over again.
Is the G-man up for a threesome with
Ol Mike and Ed?
When it gets too dark
You can always see the stars.
And when the moment is right
All it takes is a spark.
Homeland Security, Poems by Ron Spurga, 2009
Books and Other Literature
The ABN AMRO Guide to the Diamond Market: A Consumer’s Guide to Selecting, Purchasing, and Caring for a Lifelong Investment
ABN AMRO Bank has been financing the world’s diamond industry for 200 years. The ABN AMRO Guide to Buying a Diamond explains the intricacies of the process of buying a diamond and explores the history of the diamond manufacturing business. Authored by two leaders in the diamond industry, this official guide offers expert guidance on online versus traditional jewelers, how to choose the right stone, and how much to spend.
Who Wants to be a Millionaire, Unlikely 2.0
Then, into a cab to JFK and the flight to Tortola. It had to seem like he just disappeared. Ten thousand married men walk away from their wives each year in America. And who gives a shit? Besides, Francine was a survivor: she would go on playing Bingo; work with her sisters in the bra factory down the street; and maybe marry the old greaser who ran the fruit stand on Queens Boulevard and who liked old bags.
The Getaway, Unlikely 2.0
I have a duffel bag
Stashed under my bed.
In it cash, Lithuanian passport,
Grundig radio, and autographed
Photograph of Jimmy Hoffa.
The prez sez
Not to worry,
Folds his arms across
His Halloween cape,
And waits for the
Sun to go down.
Please visit Ron’s Amazon Author Page for more information on his many book titles.
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