John Martino
American Sonnet
I push your head inside my fist,
little by little with one finger.
Then, stuff a red, white & blue scarf in,
a freedom dove, one cancerous cyst.
I can’t believe you buy any of this.
Gold, embossed, buffed with a kiss.
I open my hand with a flick of the wrist.
Nothing’s gone unless it’s missed.
No one cares until they’re pissed.
Sometimes love makes an ugly sound,
late at night when the shades are down.
Always enough hate to go around.
My fist turns into a tell-tale heart
and pumps out its spattered bloody art.
John Martino‘s poems have appeared, or are forthcoming, in Connotation Press: An Online Artifact, HEArt Online, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, and the anthology Envy, Vol. 6 from a 7-volume series on the 7 deadly sins by Pure Slush Books. He has worked as a teacher and tutor of English for 22 years. An avid traveler, Martino currently resides in Hong Kong with his wife, Shelley.
SUBMIT to What Rough Beast via our SUBMITTABLE site.