Napkin

Nobody wants to read
A rape poem
I keep telling
Myself, my voice
Nobody wants to eat
Their own entrails
I keep telling
Myself, my

The boys stall adult life
I just want to write a rape
Poem on their wrists
Or anyone’s wrist for
That matter is most dreadful
Wipe the napkin to your mouth
I eat the bugs after watching
Their thin procession across
The kitchen floor