Friends Pile Out of Your Nose like the Little Treasures of Used Kleenex and Head Colds

by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

THE first one
was bad enough,
but than there was another
and another
and another
and another.

Friends piling out of your nose
like the little treasures of used Kleenex
and head colds.

Filling every room in the house
with banality
and stains
and noise
until I grabbed my jacket
and made my break

and didn't come home
for a week.

The Chinese have the bomb,
don't they?

I mailed them my address
so your friends
will go away.

I've contacted both India
and Pakistan
for good measure.

The next time your friends pile out of your nose
like the little treasures of used Kleenex
and head colds,
I'm going to start an international incident
and call a cab to take me away
from the blast radius
epicentre.

Either that,
or I'll climb into the broom closet
with a flashlight
and Rimbaud

and wait out
every one of those obnoxious
little fuckers.

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