Ben Bonkoske

You looked like a flea

as free as can’t be

silly, sincere, stupidity,

all you appeared

to be

to me

beneath the crustacean incarnation

was some serious sincerity silliness

for us all as good as we’re not

woman or clot in our arm

is the snickering laughter

and ignoring of the alarm

thirty

year old dirty scum kid,

forgetmenots and just about to nod off in a suit

for the blue people

in their black garb and handcuffs

puff puff please puff more than enough for

one

and she now

love pity sick hatred

the poet on his way

denouncing every deflowering betrayal to the

ideal of ok

I liked your poems

but not enough to stay

not enough to remain

without a painkiller

bitter, sweet words.

-B.B