Poetry: F*ck1ng Genghis Khan By Ryan Quinn Flanagan

F*ck1ng Genghis Khan

 

She was smoking out the window

like a pope had died.

 

Twin cat bowls knocked over

and no sign of the tiny murderers

for hire.

 

“You know,” 

I said from the bed,

“1 in every 200 people can be 

traced back to Genghis Khan genetically.

That means whenever you're fucking me,

there's a good chance you are 

fucking Genghis Khan.”

 

“Better odds than the lotto,”

she laughed.

 

I could tell she was quite taken

with the idea.

 

“Hell, maybe we are both Genghis Khan

and we are just fucking ourselves.”

 

She scrunched up her face

into recoiling lines.

 

It was obvious

that I had gone

too far.

 

Just like

those rangy Mongols

on horseback

always did.

 

 

 

 

 

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Horror Sleaze Trash, Rusty Truck, Red Fez, Fixator Press and The Oklahoma Review. He enjoys listening to the blues and cruising down the TransCanada in his big blacked out truck.