Mayhem
Shake your fat keyring, shake your cock.
Shake that restraining order, shake your
flag of idiot enchantment, shake your
finger as your TikTok rant blows a tire.
Shake your father's pistol with its bump stock,
shake your old lady's purse at three a.m.,
shake a voodoo doll over your unwanted
daughter's crib. Shake your slurs and shake
your six-packs. Shake your barbed wire
and shake those knuckle tats as you canvas
for mayhem. Shake as the devil holds his parade,
shake his horrid little hand like foreplay.
Another man might shake his head until it opens wide
you shake off that thought like a sucker bite.
Tom Barlow is an Ohio writer of poetry, short stories and novels. His work has appeared in journals including Ekphrastic Review, Voicemail Poetry, The North Dakota Quarterly, The New York Quarterly, The Modern Poetry Quarterly, and many more. See more at tombarlowauthor.com. Tom recommends the Imagination Library.
