RYAN QUINN FLANAGAN

RYAN QUINN FLANAGAN

Toilet Brush Bristles

it is a job, not a vocation

servicing an ungrateful public

which is why toilet brush bristles

with anger, it is not good to go

unappreciated and unpaid for too long

and our little less than white friend

tossed down into the dunk tank

of all those public toilets,

a short blue handle to create distance

for gloved hands; it is a job that

no one wants: thankless and degrading,

our little brown friend going

from stall to stall.

 

Cereal Killers Don’t Stop

Until The Box Is Empty

The people at Kellogg’s don’t want you to know.

They pay me hush money in the form of Monopoly money

through some clandestine Parker Bros. subsidiary

which I hide under my mattress because I can be

remarkably unimaginative during the 1st and 3rd Tuesdays

of each month.

But the truth is the truth regardless of where it comes from.

Cereal killers don’t stop until the box is empty.

Spooning is just as much about your kitchenware

as it is about bedroom love making.

And the real sickos keep more trophies than all those

sporting event jocks you grew up with.

Saving the marshmallows until the end.

A few even eat their victims.

Often in a bowl of milk.

 

The Fall Of Rome Began

At The Top Of The Stairs

I was just walking through the door when it happened.

There is no police report because no one wants the police involved.

And the process was gradual, one step at a time.

Greed is a thirsty flower in a hungry bed of nails.

I stood still for some moments, imitating the common statue.

Dropped bags of groceries to the floor that would soon be eaten.

I felt no guilt if you must know.

The fall of Rome began at the top of the stairs.

Sure, they were my stairs and I’d had the bannister removed,

but I had no further involvement.

Sometimes, the things that happen around you, become you.

Not true in this case at all.

I would have cooperated with the investigation

if such a thing had happened.

Tried to help everyone make detective by the end

of the fiscal year.

Put a pool in for the kids and a double garage

for the wife.

I am not some monster.

Love live the Republic!

RYAN QUINN FLANAGAN

RYAN QUINN FLANAGAN is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Our Poetry Archive, Setu, Literary Yard, and The Oklahoma Review.