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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...

About The Author

Rob.jpg

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

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  • Robert Roman

My Own Private Ulysses: Introducing the Terrible Tercet


“Get a light snack in Davy Byrne’s. Stopgap. Keep me going.”

– Leopold Bloom, Ulysses by James Joyce


I wanted to “Make it new” by serving up an original Ezraku. But I botched the recipe and defaulted to my home-cooked Rust Belt roots. The affinities of Dublin and her future sister city Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania are many. But that’s a whole other podcast. We cooked up something in the spirit of the Pittsburgh Steeler’s Terrible Towel, long may she wave.

The Terrible Tercet lacks all conviction, verblessness, dual adjectives, abrupt imagistic juxtaposition, but its full of passionate intensity. And for all those Lambert’s Lunatics out there ancient enough to remember the infamous Green Weenie, sit tight and save room for dessert.


Davy Byrne’s Gorgonzola.

That black stuff’s not Coca-Cola,

It’ll put hair on your areola.


Stay tuned for more Steelers/Ulysses fusion.

Same oxymoronic time, same omnimoronic channel.



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