Today's poem is by Michelle Boisseau
Thorn Gets Theoretical
You got it wrong. I'm no escort,
a sword protecting a bit of fluff.
The flower was my idea. Sure,
my only one, but one's enough.
There's nothing quite as gratifying
as watching a bright face go slack
then crumple in pain. You're just dying
to say it, go on: I'm a prick,
but you got to admit I'm clever
posing as a mousy brown twig
when I can flash quick as a cleaver.
There. You know you deserve that sting.
Though flowers open and break down,
exposing their sexual wares
to the rough wind, I stick around
exacting payment from the careless.
Copyright © 2003 Michelle Boisseau All rights reserved
from Trembling Air
University of Arkansas Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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Copyright © 2002, 2003 Verse Daily
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2002, 2003 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved