slink up
behind them
in the stale of
night
with a baseball bat
with nails
sticking out of the end
and bash them in the
head
like a zombie
terrorizing your childhood
home.
do not listen
to their
bullshit.
bitch back.
stomp
on their
toes.
poison
their drinking
water.
let the fucking
curse words shout
at their
stupid
fucking
faces like
unintentional spitwads
but don’t
talk
behind their backs.
my poems
keep their friends close,
but their enemies
even
closer.
(C) Brice Maiurro 2012
Cover art: John Jennings
maiurro 