Frank Rubino

Frank Rubino is the author of Frank’s Lunch Service (Lithic Press, 2025). His poems have appeared in The Platform Review, Disquieting Muses Quarterly, Thimble, Aesthetic Apostle, The World, and Vending Machine. He was the featured poet in The Red Wheelbarrow 14 and co-hosts the Red Wheelbarrow Poets workshop in New Jersey.

Offshore (POEM)

I don't like getting up so early, being forced out 

from dreaming under my brown not-for-summer cowboy quilt,

when in the dark my Dad would come to shake me like a Pall Mall pack

of cigareets, to dislodge loose tobacco shavings from the tubes

of paper rolled by kids with clever hands, whose skills assured

them jobs for life somewhere, like me and my artistic hands one day,

oh India. I'm waking up again at five like back when Dad 

& I drove in the dark to open up Frank's Lunch, 

& dawn would fulginate along the river quick behind our truck.

I'm badly used, oh India, and my artistic hands one day,

I'm thinking, will be used for something interesting, one day.

I wake before the dawn to talk to India, leave off the light,

just prop my phone up on a pillow, shade it over with a sheet

to fashion my reflecting lamp, ‘cause everyone’s asleep. Not you,

oh India, awake & busy, smart somewhere, & badly used.

I saw sometimes the fulgination of the river’s hour

when no one sleeping could, oh India, ‘cause no one could,

& finding underwear that I'd laid out last night unburdening,

oh India, my morning mind & finding in the bathroom trash,

phenomena, a paper wad effulgent like a Christmas dove.