don’t flip me the bird
if I want your life erased
it’s a magic trick
points of contact between us
are sketchy and full of shame

tickling someone hard
as to discover their roots
brain coiled like a fist
as to maintain discomfort
keeping peace in the bedroom

guzzling beer or gin
of manic necessity
cryptic politics
planting **** in the basement
harmless binging on popcorn

charity for all
insomnia for no one
candidly speaking
triumph of simplicity
social media be ******

an octave above
the gift of tongues forgiven
coming out to god
the second amendment rights
a warming inundation

leading an army
sophomoric sergeant’s guilty
round peg in square hole
suspicion is the ground rule
round up the usual suspects

  
© Lewis Bosworth, 2016