For Frank Kofka.

Dulce et Decorum Etsy.

Bug Boy woke up one day and told himself that here would be his final resting place.

He crawled to the brown chifferobe, and lo!

Another bug had found his cozy home!

I’m a literature connoisseur like Kurt Vonegitte, Ernst Hummingway, Dao Lin,

Yao Ming;I like zines. So Bug Boy chose to

delay his last slumber to shoo away

this creeping insect invading his bed.

Oh, do you like David Foster Wallace?

I got through Infinite Jest in two days.

No big deal. I just love reading. Do you?

Murakami is like so dark, ya feel?

Nuanced too. Bug Boy took two icky legs

and squished his foe just like a rotten fruit.

I’m a good writer, just trust me. I am.

This poem’s not bad, but I’ve written more.

I know what it’s like to really struggle.

I drink, I do drugs, I have sex, I’m sad.

Bug Boy, wiping bug juice from his thin shell,

grabs a spool of thread and, tying a noose,

seals his fate with the help of gravity.

And that’s the end of tiny ol’ Bug Boy.

Please read my poems. I just miss New York.