unfamiliar

increasingly aware
of an unfamiliar presence

a rose-colored disturbance of the peace

a little thing that causes
slight pandemonium in the chest,
a short circuit in the system

an uncomfortable sense
of immediacy, urgency

irritating awareness
of theoretical consequences

does a distraction know
that it distracts?

a delightful threat
a potentially dangerous treat
a pretty bowl of soft candies

“come and taste and eat”

a sweet scent hangs on the air

shake off the pleasant delirium
take a nautical reading
course correction
bear East 90°

forge dutifully ahead

allow the eye to wander
through the halls of imagination

and glance briefly
at what may
or may not

be


©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell 

I Can Bleed

I suppose I could bleed for you
Or perhaps for myself or a friend
I could bleed for money and status
Or as part of a goal, a means to an end

And unfortunately, I have to say,
Because I’d rather not suffer in blindness,
That I will not be bleeding for you,
Because you never return the kindness


©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell 

Good Luck, Liberal

Liberals need to get a grip on the facts
Democracy has come right off the tracks
Get it through your Progressive head
This doesn’t end without bloodshed

The Epstein list, it just doesn’t matter
Scandals don’t cause tyrants to scatter
The “schism” should cause you no elation
But you’re not ready for that conversation

Maybe you’ll get lucky; I don’t know
Like the British, saying, “You guys can go”
King George set us free just to be nice
And we didn’t even have to ask twice

Or how Southern States just up and quit,
No need for the Union to do actual shit
Confederacy said, “Hey, let’s not fight”
“We’re sorry. We want to make it right”

When that guy with the funny mustache
Apologized for being grumpy and rash
He regretted invading Poland and France,
Gave it right back when he had a chance

But good luck with the nonviolent protest
If boycotts and letters are your very best
You should persuade them any day now
Although, in truth, I don’t know how

Those authoritarian fashy-types,
Don’t yield power over grumbles or gripes
To beat fascism without ending up dead
Get over yourself, and embrace bloodshed


©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell 

Silence is Aluminum

They say it’s gold, but
I don’t actually own much gold

I do, however, have many things
That are made out of aluminum

Most of my furniture is aluminum frame,
The bookshelves, front of the refrigerator,
The handles of my cooking utensils

I have a lot of silence

Sure, I watch movies and YouTube videos
I read, listen to music, have friends over

But I have a lot of silence

Why? Because it’s easier

It’s easier than dealing with people
People who think it’s cool to be rude
People with impossible standards,
Standards that everyone is supposed to
Live up to… except them

It’s much easier than trying to date,
Only to be used for food,
Validation of her ego, then ghosted, and
Offered up as an unwilling sacrifice for
TikTok rage content and lies told over
Spilled tea

All because I refused to be a wet doormat,
And thatTHAT makes me a monster

But in my aluminum Fortress of Solitude,
No one expects me to be a mind reader

The only mind I need to read is mine
And I can do that quietly,
Without anyone yelling at me,
Nagging me, belittling me in public,
Belittling me in private, or
Giving me backhanded compliments

Aluminum doesn’t weaponize
The things I say to it in confidence

Al, atomic number 13
Doesn’t self-sabotage just because
It felt unworthy of being mine

Aluminum is strong
It doesn’t corrode

It’s electrically conductive,
So, you might even say
It has a sort of emotional intelligence

It is both willing and able to move signals
From Point A to Point B,
Instead of secretly harboring resentment
For months or years

Aluminum doesn’t send mixed signals

Aluminum is non-magnetic
So, it doesn’t let strangers come in
And use it when I’m at work

It doesn’t blame me
Because I was too busy working
To give it the constant, whirlwind of
Narcissistic attention that it craved

It’s recyclable, so you could say that,
Instead of blaming you
For its own feelings of emptiness,
It has the capacity to learn and
Change its shape

It’s adaptable

Aluminum can’t exactly grow,
But it provides a stable base for growth

I have living plants sitting on
My aluminum desk by the window

Aluminum is cold, but
I can heat it up very quickly

And it cools down quickly, too;
It doesn’t hold on things

So, I don’t get surprise burns,
Thinking, “Surely it must have
“Cooled off by now.”

Aluminum is so reliable and lightweight
That they use it in the stuff they
Launch humans into space with

It doesn’t collapse and give in
At the first signs of stress

If the aluminum items in my place
Should break, then I know that
I was the problem

If I was the problem, then
I can fix the problem
⠀⠀

With aluminum, ⠀
I don’t have to wait ⠀
For an iron leopard ⠀
To change its rusty spots

If my things are broken, then I obviously
Put too much stress on them,
I put too much weight on them,
Or I moved them back and forth too much

I can’t remember the last time
Something broke around here

But if it did, there’s a certain peace
In knowing whose fault it was,
Knowing that there’s some kind of a
Genuine lesson, something I can learn,
So it simply doesn’t happen again

The same cannot be said
For the outside world
With all of its fickle children

Aluminum is not addicted to chaos

Aluminum is not addicted to dopamine

If something breaks,
There’s no existential angst,
No sitting and wondering,
“Maybe if I had said this? Or done that?
“Or if I hadn’t done that other thing?

Aluminum is a kind, loving 7

It’s not a 4 ounce hunk of entitled lead
That swears it’s 10 ounces of gold

It’s not 9 ounces of copper
That hates itself and truly believes
It’s only 3 ounces of mercury

Aluminum foil is spread thin every day,
But it doesn’t complain

It’s a team player

It doesn’t have constant, never-ending
Emotional outbursts that
I’m not even allowed to try to help solve

It doesn’t say the opposite of what it means

It doesn’t scream,
“Stop looking at me! Stop talking to me!
“What are you, some kind of creep?!”

It doesn’t scream,
“Oh, my god! Why won’t you look at me?!
“Why won’t you talk to me?! Grow a pair!
“What are you, gay?!”

Instead, it smiles and says,
“I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.
“Let’s cook dinner together. Then, we’ll
“Lie in bed, cuddle, and watch our show.”

Silence is solid, reliable,
Sturdy, trustworthy
Aluminum

It’s cheap, easy to manufacture,
Easy to maintain

Rather than blame me
For not being able to afford diamonds,
Gold, silver, mahogany, or marble,
Aluminum says, “We got this, babe.
“We don’t need anything but each other.”

Empires are built on aluminum

Aluminum is loyal

It doesn’t walk away for selfish,
Trivial reasons

Aluminum is helpful and nurturing

It quietly says, “Let me take your coat.
“Here, set your things down and rest.
“Lie down on me and let me soothe you.”

It doesn’t pout;
It’s just patiently, contentedly silent

It doesn’t compete with me
Or bait me into arguments
Or wait until I’m feeling proud of myself,
To insert the perfectly-timed,
Most embarrassing and devastating
Passive-aggressive jab
To take all the air out of my balloon

Aluminum says, “Relax. Breathe.
“You’re safe here with me.”

I don’t want anyone
To bring me a table

I already have
A perfectly good aluminum table

All I might ever need is for someone to
Bring something to my table

Something like, oh, I don’t know,
Maybe… good conversation, love,
Emotional support, kindness, respect,
Some graceful feminine energy,
Manners, a hot meal, a cheerleader spirit?

Nah, nobody hears that “crazy talk”

It’s way too loud out there
In the asphalt jungle
With all the steel girders and
Glass ceilings

But it’s nice and quiet in here

Sitting in aluminum silence is preferable
To allowing cruel people into my domain,
People who say horrendous things
That offend, wound the ego, and
Make you ask yourself, “What would
“Possess a person to believe this is
“How you should treat others?”

People who respond with a dismissive,
“You’re too sensitive.”

Rather than,
“I’m such an awful, mean-spirited toddler
“That my terrible behavior shocked you.”

I’d rather lie on my comfortable mattress,
On the aluminum bed frame,
And watch movies, or read, or sit in a

Peaceful

Aluminum

Silence


©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell 

undefeated champion

From the book in the current by Kevin Trent Boswell, available on Amazon

waiting at the helm of a great warship
called Spectacle
is the captain

a brave man
become myth

he whose eyes
have seen men perish
in campaigns
not yet born
or even conceived

whose castle walls have not folded
and have not been compromised

whose war dogs bear teeth
that are, themselves,
the very latticework of hell,
the stalagmites in Plato’s cave

his minions know the spiced morsels
of victory
his fruit is purpose;
his seed,
vision

no perverse enigma
flails itself against him
defeat claws at his ankles
but it has no firm grasp
laughing, he shakes off
such ridiculous pests

with a gargantuan arm,
he wields a bastard sword
and lops off the heads of cowardice
impaling indecision
rendering the obtuse
asunder

nonchalantly cuts the throats ⠀
of his desires
with the spur of his boot
and serves them
to his children

this is our hero,
the protagonist who waltzes in,
commanding that fear bow down
and obey him

all the flies of apathy scatter
the vermin of status quo fascism
gnawing off their tails,
choking on the bribes they accepted

some keel over from fright
and others die straight out
from shame when they see
him coming

strutting on the pathway
made from the hides
of indolent fools
he comes
to conquer


©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell 

Half

No point in trying, we see the impossible
Eighty percent are chopped in two
Everything we ever did was all wrong
Nothing that we were taught was true

It’s no use to refine or reach out
Nothing is left in the bin to sort
We can’t be two halves of a whole
The ball is always dragged into court

Years of digging, chasing the veins
To find the heart, a center, a core
But emptiness only weaves and bobs
Ducks out and fucks off to explore

Half of us cut in half by the clock
Cold butcher knife calendar cleave
Constantly screaming we’re wrong
We load, we chamber, and leave


©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell