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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


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: ‘Twas the Night Before Bloomsday


‘Twas the night ‘fore Bloomsday when in a house,      

A public house, I sipped Guinness with care,          

Wondered why Zoe calls Bloom Tittlemouse,             

When a jolly gent flipped through pages there.        

“Bloomsday Journal?” I asked, fast as The Flash.      

“My verse is inside,” from his droll mouth came,      

With a wink gave it like a pageant sash.              

His songs’ dear subjects, I recalled by name!         

Prancing Buck! Dancing Prof! Gerty, you Vixen!        

So, why’d Ulysses cause such a clatter?               

Because snug, settled brains, Joyce blitzed in,  

And showed love’s the heart of life’s laughing matter.

Now dash off to Dublin, his book’s true site.    

Happy Bloomsday! And to all a good flight!       



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