night demons

my spirit helpers are
old Italian men they
wear those sleeveless
undershirts anyway
last night they sat in
a circle above my bed
playing cards smoking
good smelling cigars as
they rehashed all my
regrets I don’t have many
but each one is like a core
sample taken in Antarctica
you never know what old
smelly used to be alive
thing will rise up at first
I sarcastically said really
but eventually I let their
rising cigar smoke draw
forth the tears I needed
to cry and realized others
forgive me faster than I
am able to forgive myself

Cinse Bonino
2024