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C.N.P Poetry 

  • Writer's pictureCathexis Northwest Press

Geologic Surveys

By: Robert Eugene Rubino

You’re my rock

— says it like it’s a chant of high holy praise

green-gray eyes wide with gratitude

evokes bedrock rock-solid reliable Rock of Gibraltar

— that kind of rock.

You’re my rock

— says it like it’s a faddish freaky fun fact

green-gray eyes twinkling with treacle

means it mischievously, evokes 1970s pet rock

— that kind of rock.

You’re my rock

— says it like it’s a stone-cold accusation

green-gray eyes icy blank slates

evokes a burden — a boulder in a backpack — bloodless & boring to boot

— that kind of rock.


Since retiring from daily journalism in 2013, Robert Eugene Rubino has published poetry and prose in various online and print literary journals, including Hippocampus, The Esthetic Apostle, The Write Launch, Haunted Waters Press, Forbidden Peak Press, Cagibi, Cathexis Northwest, High Shelf Press, Raw Art Review, MacQueen's Quinterly and Gravitas, and in the anthologies Poetic Bond IX, Earth Hymn, Poets' Choice and Poems from the Lockdown. Before the coronavirus, on most Wednesday evenings he could be found at Sacred Grounds Cafe in San Francisco, participating in the West Coast's longest-running poetry open mic. Now each week he participates online. He lives in Palo Alto, California.

"In thinking about the vagaries of relationships, I recalled an ex once remarking that I had been "her rock." I took that to mean I was someone who'd been solid and reliable --- a good thing to be, generally speaking,

although not particularly exciting. But each time I recalled those words, the meaning shifted, with the memory of being told in a patronizing tone rather than a tone of admiration, and then shifting again, to an indictment

of sorts. I became fascinated with the possible meanings of a simple statement, especially when filtered through the highly subjective lens of memory."


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