ryan quinn flanagan | the mosquito

The Mosquito

There were flyers up all over town.

Offering a vague description
and warning children not to go out unattended.

The mosquito was some middle aged man
buzzing around town
(a few years back)
with large paper wings
and a syringe attached to his face.

Jabbing man, woman
and child,
in the neck and arms predominantly,
before moving

They killed him finally
with the long swatter of the law.

Outside the steakhouse now closed down.

In the parking lot, surrounded by lights,
his guts spilling over the pavement
like Niagara Falls.

They said there was no other way.
The subject was not responding.

Negotiations broke down
because the mosquito did not speak
as they spoke
and no one could
(or wanted too)
understand the reality

of his

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