There’s a psychopath
at every job, a guy ready
to talk your ear off about socks
or a woman who admits
she has a fetish for hairy *****.
I met them in restaurants,
on construction sites,
and in bland offices.
As time went on,
the psychos disappeared.
I mentioned this to a coworker.
He stared at me cold,
the way I once looked at a guy
who went on and on
about his ****** addiction.

-Ron Gavalik

Murderers and thieves
lurk around every corner.
The honest ones use weapons
to get what they want.
The others allow selfishness
to slowly manipulate weak men
into the madness of poverty.
All remaining strength
sapped away, the defeated
pray for death.

-Ron Gavalik

The guy who wore a scarf at the bar,
he chose not to write
because he's ‘no Hemingway.’
I told him no one stops me.
Memories of Ginsberg, Frost, Thomas,
and even Bukowski's drunken ghost
make me feel at home in my words.
That didn't change the guy's mind,
so I told him to drink up
and do something else.

-Ron Gavalik

When we hit the whiskey,
we felt very good
for too short of a time.
The cowards and the ******
didn't disappear into the night.
At least their filthy claws
couldn't get a grip
on our throats.

-Ron Gavalik

I was once beaten
hard
by a large man
with red fire eyes
and froth on his lips.
Don’t worry, baby.
I gave as good
as I got.
That day, I learned
to survive.

-Ron Gavalik

The lovers and the fighters
both know that bitter
sweet tinge of struggle.
They are also the free souls
who deliver truth and emotion
upon apathetic servants.
Adorned in empty gray suits,
the mob lives only to criticize
those who rise above
the mundane.

-Ron Gavalik

Lily's hands were soft.
Her red nail polish
didn't contain even one chip.
As that dame stroked
the inside of my thigh,
the scent of an agenda
lingered on her breath.
So I started the car.
We didn't speak five words
during the ride back.

-Ron Gavalik