Poem: Mosquitoes On Screen

 

Mosquitoes on Screen

 

honor loathes such tongues

bashing stitches of tin.

an argot of bloodthirsty whines,

forever obsessive, sharp 

and lean.

it is whispered 

 

they once gave too much.

too honest.

too intimate.

nothing left  in the aftermath of failed generosity

but shriveled quests to guzzle.

such is the legend.

yes.  and now

 

dozens of skinless wraiths

scrape on the cold, threadbare sieve,

poking any drop of warmth.

any aura of contact.

any picayune of touch.

before seeking comfort

in the dark.

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8/28/22  significant mods ... never get it right