The Ambush

19 unread messages from “I fucking hate you, You pathetic, pee-sitting, pussy ass man child”

A green but bloodied Trojan horse painted with 19 in red, unread at the top, far left of our screens

An undercover firing squad left to free roam on the backs of maybe 

They infiltrated the perimeter by mimicking supply lines 

We deployed reinforcements to the outermost borders

It was a whole goddamned mess out there 

We Patched up disrobed barricades with found artifacts:

Plastic rose petals, corduroy pants, a body pillow, aluminum pole, handmade earrings, four hundred sixty seven legos, a stained mattress, and the confetti made from that handwritten letter

We Worked in double shifts But the mess was already on the inside

That quiet of the minefield memory had left us vulnerable 

And they lit us up like the goddamned 4th of July 

There was nothing else we could do but shout from the loudspeakers:

“Call off your braves Darling, your guerrillas your agents your ambush

And we’ll give it another try”

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