you like to think of it as
fashioning, shaping,
trimming to fit
everything looks better
smaller
at least, that’s how
it seems to you,
because you are
small
always pruning, shaping,
lopping bits off
leaves of contentment
stems of security
roots of self-worth
the flowers of joy
you make it all tiny,
small enough to fit
in your dainty little
terrarium
or in your pocket
or your shoe
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
A Collage of Chimeras and Phantasms, the 12th publication by Kevin Trent Boswell
A Collage of Chimeras and Phantasms is a
general collection of poems. The material veers wildly in several directions at once. You’ll find stream-of-consciousness pieces, romantic poems, works of heartbreak, dark scalpel slices that reside in the penumbra of horror, and avant-garde bits of absurdism. So, there’s no need to trouble yourself attempting to understand the methodology here—there is none.
216 pages
©️2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
You’ve never decided
A thing for yourself
You don’t follow through
Or stick to the course
You’ve no self-esteem
You lack the discipline
Of a well-trained dog
Or a horse
You do nothing unless
Your friend says it’s cool
And you live by their
Useless suggestion
Your mirthless friend
Is a clueless shit,
But you still never think
To question
You could break away
And leave them behind
But you know they’d mock
And shame you
So, instead, you’re unhappy,
You imprison yourself
And you let them
Control and tame you
Your failures make
Your “friend” feel better
But you think it’s wise counsel
And affection
Their “guidance” is a curse,
Guides you into the ditch,
It keeps you lonely
And lacking connection
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
On Saturday, I spent the entire day editing and submitting the manuscript for my new book.
I got it finished and turned in, then treated myself by eating too much pizza.
The author’s proof should be here in a day or two and I can proofread it. Then, it will go live and be available on Amazon.
radial beams
smile sears through
the morass of tedious
normalcy
similar to a sizzling steak
on the grill in the backyard
good feelings spray out
like the water from a
rotating yard sprinkler
hand me a straw
and let me sip
this sugary cocktail
of swirling girlish charm
easy to drink
drunk on the polarity
of what she is
and what I am not
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
like a game of
Jenga, or Operation
like the careful restructuring
of a house of cards
how to
delicately slide
the desired shape
out of its current position
and into the one
I choose?
it’s absolutely essential
to have a steady hand,
to avoid upsetting the harmony
must not startle,
or cause alarm
she is nestled ⠀
comfortably
into her little nook, ⠀
her home
if it is indeed possible that
she might be moved by me…
then I must proceed
ever so gently, deftly,
with the greatest
of charm and tact
otherwise, the whole structure
could come tumbling
down
one must be debonair,
unhurried, poised, skilled,
perhaps even a bit
devil-may-care
for a handler of cards,
the appeal of the card
is what strength she brings to his hand
does she make for a
weak pair of twos?
or does she complete his straight flush?
does she make him look and feel
like the winner of the game?
but the card herself,
she is far more impressed
by the manner in which
an adroit dealer is able to
adeptly and confidently ⠀
handle her
expertly positioning her
without her necessarily
noticing
she wants to feel
safely controlled,
lovingly held,
as a crowning
symbol of
fulfillment
and fruition
but if the Queen of Hearts
is yielding…
if she offers some assistance,
some small help
in wiggling her out
of that lonely position
between the Three of Clubs
and the Four of Spades,
then there’s hope
and I will keep that card
always
up under my sleeve,
right next to my skin
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
Kevin Trent Boswell 