Poetry | Chicken Shit Triangles

Love Triangles Gone Bad
-Ben Walker

She watches you from the corner of her

eye as you look at me 
and as I watch this three way

Glance of love and hate.

As we sit at the table,
the electricity is undeniable

And so are the silent accusations of late.

We are playing risk games with the most fragile of all men,

We go round and round this same circle and then we all fall down again.

But never do we learn, I think to my self

As a slow sip of water I go to take.

And as a slow roasted chicken comes from her end to mine

If she had her way that chicken would blind

If I had mine, that chicken would weep

And if you had yours, two chickens you would keep.

To feed your ego the way you want them to

Narcissus you are, as much as I love you.

This whole scene in slow motion would be cruel

To mostly her,
as she doesn’t know the rules

Of the games we now play.

To me it’s sad, pathetic, one might say

To think that you will live your life like this,

Always wanting what you will always miss.

To you its frustration, that you cannot really have

This constant situation, one for your heart

And another for your bed.

To others at this table it’s just a story of thrill

Of three people having dinner,

never having their fill.

To life and big picture, 
it’s just as significant as about the profundity of chicken shit.

- Reshma Krishnan


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The Honeycomb World
The Blind Watchmaker
A Poem for No One