guillermo By John Grochalski

guillermo

sits outside

on a bench

 

with his hard on

and his whiskey

 

talking to twelve-year-old girls

nursing an injured pigeon

 

don’t touch that thing,

guillermo says

 

pigeons have diseases

pigeons are nothing but flying rats

 

guillermo drinks his whiskey

and pulls on his crotch

 

he smiles at the twelve-year-old girls

 

he wishes he was as beautiful

as something like a flying rat.

John Grochalski is the author of the poetry collections, The Noose Doesn’t Get Any Looser After You Punch Out (Six Gallery Press 2008), Glass City (Low Ghost Press, 2010), In The Year of Everything Dying (Camel Saloon, 2012), Starting with the Last Name Grochalski (Coleridge Street Books, 2014), and The Philosopher’s Ship (Alien Buddha Press, 2018). He is also the author of the novels, The Librarian (Six Gallery Press 2013), and Wine Clerk (Six Gallery Press 2016).  Grochalski currently lives in Brooklyn, New York, where the garbage can smell like roses if you wish on it hard enough.