Three Poems by Jon Bennett

black butterfly

Black Butterfly by  Andrea Hasko-Marx

 

Needle Fight

 

The two men squared off

in the hotel hallway

a bright red hypodermic disposal box

smashed open on the carpet

between them

Ray could see it on the monitor

he dialed the police

On the screen

the two men were trying

to dart each other

with used needles

They dodged, they leapt,

they flung more needles

but these made poor projectiles,

too light, badly balanced

though still a potential

death sentence

if you got someone

just so

It was a duel

fired by fury

or, more likely, thought Ray,

a duel

fueled by love.

 

(thanks to RW for this story)

Black Butterfly

 

The boy murders minnows

with handfuls of wet sand

on the bank

many minnows will die today

so I climb a slope

to get away

I feel like

the king of California

up there

the sea, a kayaker

too far out

and the people on the beach

too close

The cala lilies

are in full flower now

white flesh open

to the black butterflies

which alight

flit off

and land

on the next

and the next.

The Reprieve

 

“It’s like a sobriety

get out of jail free card!”

I told myself, my friends,

everyone but my sponsor

“Waiting my whole life

for this shit to happen,”

in my Plymouth Duster

before a bleak horizon

me and “her”

post-punk, red lipstick

shotgun, flame thrower

whiskey highway

I drank 3 days straight

There was no “her”

I couldn’t drive

The pills made me sick

I woke up

and yes, the shit

had really

hit the fan.