The Many Faces of Poetry: Routinely


Routinely. We

Drive 3 ton vehicles seventy miles per hour.  We do this in swarms, crowds, jams, at all angles and approaches. Routinely. Somehow it’s unusual to die in traffic on the way home. I don’t understand it.

Routinely. We

Bathe ourselves in electronic light. Hours and hours each day the photons emitted by our gear pass through our bodies. 

Routinely. We Eat food that amounts to tenderized and processed glue.

Routinely. We stay indoors for hours, days, weeks, even months. It’s what we’re SUPPOSED to be doing. Right?

Routinely. We talk to no one for months on end.  We have plenty of chat, little real talk.

Routinely. We expose ourselves to huge clusters of information in the form of digital glop, yet somehow we only go slightly insane.

Routinely. We breathe toxins generated by our culture without being aware of it.

Routinely. We witness horrors on the news and barely shrug because we are numb to horrors in this age of surfeit of  horrors.

Routinely. We vote for callous lying cretins and elect them to public offices they don’t deserve. Routinely we continue allowing venal malicious fools to exploit us without doing a goddam thing. Routinely we accept a political situation that would not be too difficult to change but we don’t change it even though it’s destroying us.

Routinely. We juggle scenes of increasing complexity.

Routinely. We melt down when the complexity is overwhelming. The crazy shit we do depends on who we emulate. Do we shoot up a supermarket or do we binge on ice cream?

Routinely. We are surprised by what happens when we process this degree of overstimulation and make terrible decisions. Routinely our judgment is flawed by the input of mis and dis information.

Trust nothing but your own experience.  Routinely.


Arthur Rosch is a novelist, musician, photographer and poet. His works are funny, memorable and often compelling. One reviewer said “He’s wicked and feisty, but when he gets you by the guts, he never lets go.” Listeners to his music have compared him to Frank Zappa, Tom Waits, Randy Newman or Mose Allison. These comparisons are flattering but deceptive. Rosch is a stylist, a complete original. His material ranges from sly wit to gripping political commentary.

Arthur was born in the heart of Illinois and grew up in the western suburbs of St. Louis. In his teens he discovered his creative potential while hoping to please a girl. Though she left the scene, Arthur’s creativity stayed behind. In his early twenties he moved to San Francisco and took part in the thriving arts scene. His first literary sale was to Playboy Magazine. The piece went on to receive Playboy’s “Best Story of the Year” award. Arthur also has writing credits in Exquisite Corpse, Shutterbug, eDigital, and Cat Fancy Magazine. He has written five novels, a memoir and a large collection of poetry. His autobiographical novel, Confessions Of An Honest Man won the Honorable Mention award from Writer’s Digest in 2016.

More of his work can be found at Photos at


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One Comment on “The Many Faces of Poetry: Routinely”

  1. beth says:

    excellent and anything but routine reading

    Liked by 1 person

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