Trap by Mitchell Grabois

The woman with dead eyes says:
I am misunderstood
bruised by indifferent humanity

When I see her on the bus I ignore her
I don’t want to fall into her trap
She could suck the juice from my soul
like a spider
She could pigeonhole me
like a used book on a shelf
pages brown and curled

So I ignore her
for my own protection

Her cunt broadcasts like a radio
She flexes her calves
as she lays in bed sleepless
Insomnia has made her calves into hardballs
as big as softballs

With that locomotive power
she could push me into the next county
into a dry corn field
She could bulldoze me into Murphy’s Bar
Dry Cornfield Central
My only defense is to keep myself off the TV screen
of her malignant drama

I must always remember:
she is the woman with dead eyes
If I forget
all I have to do is look in her eyes

If she’s wearing sunglasses
I must rely on memory

If she’s listening to the Rolling Stones
I need to find the volume control
and turn it down


Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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