Poems are dangerous.
They have bones in them:
a white rib, a femur,
a clavicle, vertebra,
little ones, so when you bite in,
so when the poem
bursts
in your mouth,
they crack your teeth,
they make you swallow,
they catch in your throat,
they catch,
they catch,
they leave you with toothaches
and bellyaches,
they leave you gasping
for air, for air,
they leave you begging
for a punch in the gut
so you can breathe.
This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
