On the riverbanks of India
The men wade among crocodiles
For fish⠀
In the jungles of Indonesia
The men walk among tigers
For wood⠀
In the backs of our ⠀
Western minds,
Among the terror files⠀
We wish⠀
These monsters
Would disappear
For good⠀
Oh, to be alive and in ⠀
Indonesia
she was like the tiny, little
broken, china teacup
that i would use to dip sugar
from out of the big jar
that i kept in the fridge
she was there,
all covered in sticky sweetness…
chipped, jagged
cold
and poised
to cut the lip
©2026 Kevin Trent Boswell
From the book on the page – poems for artists, writers, and other hooligans
we project our
hopes and fears
onto people
we don’t
even know
you can find out
that you don’t
really know someone
even after many years
of living with them
and even as you’re
learning
that person,
they’re changing
all the time
and so are you
safety is an illusion
you are not safe
nor am I
what look like
green flags, today
seem bright red,
tomorrow
the thing that, today,
made you recoil,
because you
thought you saw
scarlet
you come,
later on,
to appreciate
as being
a stable,
comforting
emerald green
safety?
thefuckisthat?
I’ve never
been safe
not once
not even when
I was sure
I’d found
safety
you aren’t
safe
not so long
as you’re
dealing with
people
you roll the dice,
like everybody else
the only sensible
approach to
dealing with people
is to assume
that it’s
not going to
work out
but to behave
as if it will
work out
until they give you
some kind of
undeniable reason
to walk away
not some
superficial “ick,”
a childish picayune,
but a genuine
dealbreaker
and if that
never happens,
well then,
lucky you
nice work,
if you can get it
me?
I have
gone completely
into hiding,
many times,
often for years
at a stretch
I crawl out of my cave
only if something
seems particularly
interesting
I stopped looking for
greens and reds
because looking for them
never had any actual
bearing on the outcome
not once
now, I just assume
90% of the women
I encounter
are not going to be
worth the time of day
experience has taught me that
and the remaining 10%?
well, I won’t know
until I find out
the hard way
never learning
from your mistakes
is dumb
but being
too cautious
about the possibility
of making
some mistakes
that you might
learn from
is boring ⠀
and lonely
green and red
aren’t really
the best colors,
anyway
I’m more partial to
black and purple,
blues and grays
you are
not safe
nor am I
Vaya con Dios, amigo
©2026 Kevin Trent Boswell
Most people are
Too crazy
To sit still
And let
Somebody
Love them
There are too many
Preconceptions
Requirements
Conditionals
Unspoken
Expectations
Too much trauma
Too many
Feelings
Of guilt
Fear
Shame
Unworthiness
They’ll have a
Knee-jerk reaction
And stop it cold
From the start
Or accept it,
Initially
They’ll go through
All the motions, the buzz that
Flutters through you when you’re
With someone new
But the
Moment
They realize
It’s not ending,
They’re not being
Dumped
They’re not seeing any
Major red flags,
The things that would
Normally allow them
An acceptable excuse
To bow out, step away
When nothing
Unusual happens
When it just
Goes along
Smoothly,
The way that it’s
Supposed to
They find that they’re
Too addicted
To the drama
The constant
Yo-yo seesaw roller coaster
Of the madness
That is most relationships
The steady supply
Of predictable
Comfort
Is just
Too much
For them
To take
So they start
Something
A fight
Or they obsess
Over a need
That they
Never express
With words
Or they project
A belief or attitude
Onto the other person,
One that isn’t in that person’s
Character, interest, thoughts,
Feelings, needs, or wants
But nonetheless,
They convince themselves
That the other person
Started the fight
The other person should have
Known what they needed
The other person was really
Hiding how they truly felt
And they blow it up
Like a marine
Clearing a foxhole
With a grenade, then the pistol,
And the bayonet, just to be safe
Really emptying it out,
Making sure that
Everything in there
Is dead
It’s a fear response
The brain is,
In a strange,
Perverse way,
Trying to
Protect itself
Odd,
Considering
All the damn thing
Had to do was
Sit still
Accept someone
Petting it,
Kissing on it,
Hugs and
Praise
But sometimes,
There just too much
Heartache
Sitting right there,
Fresh in the memories
We can’t separate
The past from the present
Sometimes,
The person will
Realize the mistake
Later on
But the moment
Has passed
The doctor
Walks into the
Waiting room
And says with a
Somber tone
I’m sorry,
They didn’t make it
The body rejected
The donor’s heart
There was
Nothing
We could do
©2026 Kevin Trent Boswell
She knows not what is
She knows not what is
But imagines all the worst
A fear of judgment
©2026 Kevin Trent Boswell
danger
lies
in its
direction⠀
avoid
the peril
by wandering
around⠀
avoid the every
thing⠀
going
around,⠀
wandering
©2026 Kevin Trent Boswell
From the book in the current by Kevin Trent Boswell
