Poem #17

There is nothing funny about a first

Mistake. Just ask Wilfred Owen.

A second though?

That’s when hysterics creep

Up the trachea,

Titillating cilia,

Sinking like Lost Boys

Into the larynx.

They’ll peep and pry

Only when

You spill the milk again;

When driving home you complete

The roadkill brace;

When you strangle people twice.

 

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