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
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.
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
somehow,
it’s even uglier
on the inside
the surprises,
intermittent,
perplexing
it must be a
challenge
to hide
so much,
for so long,
and so vexing
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
dwindle and fade,
no satisfaction here
purpose of the ire,
in the open, now clear
garnering support,
an ethos, a ruse,
self-righteous zealot
choose and abuse
don’t need a diagnosis
to tell you to duck;
it walks, and it quacks,
underhand fuck
watch, but do nothing
feign blindness, withdraw
could help, but won’t
the soul—coup d’état
in silence, compliance,
just keep on going,
not twisting the knife,
but watching, and knowing
hardly deniable,
accessory to the fact
encircle the target
enter foul pact
a tribe may be strong,
yet, poisoned in the heart
each member chooses
if they will take part
a bias is a bias,
and roses have fangs
hatred is hatred,
and hate runs in gangs
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
rising majestically from the ashes
is only useful if you have been
unwittingly destroyed
by circumstances
beyond your control
if you willingly walk into the fire,
time and time again,
because you crave
the feeling of being reborn,
then it makes it impossible
for anyone in your life
to know who they’re dealing with
harness the power of the phoenix
without becoming a full-time martyr
to constant change
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
Kevin Trent Boswell 