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Robert

Roman

Empire

RED BRICK ALLEY STORIES

The Killards Are Coming

Every damn day in Religion Class, Sister Anna Banana yapped about the Soviets revving up to start a nuclear war with the new president, Ronald Reagan. She said after the cities burned to Holy Hell, there’d be something called “nuclear winter” that would kill all...

Double-Strength Demon Dogs

Fantastic Freddie was the only altar boy from the Red Brick Alley. He was always consecrating Ritz Crackers and trying to make us eat them like communion wafers. He light-fingered incense from the sacristy, and he blessed water from Old Lady Tully’s spigot...

Laser Loop

I couldn’t see over the tall green school bus seat except when we hit a pothole and I bounced up in the air like a Pop-Tart jumping out of a toaster. Nobody at Saint Augie’s could believe I was allowed to go. My first school picnic ever. I was good from the day I handed in my pink...

The Boy Wonder

How the Hell did Jaggerbush get himself up there? He was clawing his way up into the open window above the Science class door like a real-life gargoyle. The blockhead of a wooden mallet stuck out of the back of his Toughskins where his butt crack was. He wore three...

Robert Roman grew up in Pittsburgh, PA, where he sold newspapers to cars from a concrete island. Read more→

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My Own Private Ulysses: In the Mouth of Lestrygonians

Dec 6, 2023

"Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch… among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon’s"

- Ulysses, James Joyce

Another pair of Time-Telescoping Ezraku:

In the Mouth of Lestrygonians #1

The new-shoe smell of sneakers for basketball:

Fresh fruit flavor of a Confectioners Hall.

In the Mouth of Lestrygonians #2

Pineapple and butterscotch at Lemon’s & Co:

A giant cannibal’s grisly, human gyro.

Subscribe and stay tuned for more appetizing Ezraku.

Same tasty time, same chewy channel.

My Own Private Ulysses: Kate’s KMAUKC

Nov 28, 2023

K.M.A.

-Will you tell him he can kiss my arse? Myles Crawford said throwing out his arm for emphasis. Tell him that straight from the stable.

- Ulysses, James Joyce

Kate’s KMAUKC

Mother’s counter to a hullabaloo:

"They can kiss my ass under Kaufman’s clock."

Like James Joyce, she’s NSFW.

Pick with these Irish and they’ll rock and sock.

Joyce’s jab, K.M.A., may first seem sparse,

But his punches come in bunches, combos

Like “He can kiss my royal Irish arse.”

That’s how the sweet scientists clinch KOs.

Now where was this low blow born? IDK?

This infight invite to kiss arse and ass?

Dublin? Pittsburgh? Some rest stop off the parkway?

Or somewhere hidden in the Catholic Mass?

If you give their ass a peck with your beak,

FYI, they will turn the other cheek.

Subscribe and stay tuned for more Backside Sonnets.

Same Bootylicious Time, same Badonkadonk Channel.

My Own Private Ulysses: A Bloomsgiving Prayer

Nov 21, 2023

“Ah, I’m hungry.”

- Leopold “Poldy” Bloom

A Bloomsgiving Prayer

Bless us, oh Poldy for this thy buffet,

Organs of beast and fowl, eaten in bliss.

Breakfast is the meaty meal of Bloom’s day,

Complete with grilled kidney’s sour kiss of piss.

Bloom craves the hams of girls’ vigorous hips,

He tastes the melons of Molly’s plump rump,

And savors her sticky gumjelly lips.

Treats sweeter than the sweetest sugar lump.

Is this mashed-up menu a mortal sin?

A cannibal orgy strange to behold?

Evil, unbalanced meals, Yang without Yin?

"God made food, the devil the cooks,” I’m told.

Bloom’s human hunger may be worse than quirky,

But tastier than Thanksgiving turkey.

Subscribe and stay tuned for more Leopold Litanies.

Same theocratic time, same cultish channel.

Robert Roman