LARRY
Authorities
gave my friend Larry
the chair.
He was innocent.
He was kind.
Couldn’t they see that?
Society fought back
by writing quiet poems
tucked under
summer desks.
I arrived to watch
him through the thick glass
that had been there
since before we were
young enough to die.
His eyes were calm marbles.
Scissors plastic and dull.
My God, what a year it had been.
The executioner
was only a kid.
Benjamin Niespodziany is a Chicago-based writer whose work has appeared in Fence, Booth, Salt Hill, Peach Mag, & elsewhere. His debut collection of poetry (with blurbs by Lemony Snicket & CAConrad) was released last November through Okay Donkey Press, & his forthcoming novella will be out with X-R-A-Y later this year.
The Boiler 