Little Despot

Empty-headed blood scepter
Rails on about rights and privileges

But the angel-faced baboon
Will have none of it

Garrison bone hides
Rancid jowls in its ivory jar

Circus clown juggler
Tilts at the mills of wind,
Falls of water, and the
Endless static screen

Burn all that useless crap
In the trash barrel
Out back

Reach in the candy dish
And pull out a fresh squid

This tiny line of chalk
Guides the anchor to its resting place

Cranial trauma
This, too, shall never pass

But the not-subsiding
Should subside
Within a few thousand years or so

Your head only hurts because
We’ve removed it;
Imminent domain

The lumpy piece of flesh
That used to be inside of it
Is now an air freshener
Hanging from the rear view mirror
In the Devil’s Cadillac

He says it reminds him of home

One last thing,

Please sign here:

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©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell

Unknown's avatar

Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares.

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