Missiles like Sausages by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

She tries on shirts
at Old Navy
and I’m reminded of
Khrushchev.

Missiles
like sausages
banging his fist
indignant as a bluffing child
outnumbered 20-1.

The world would be a far different place
if the Russkies hadn’t choked
in the 11th
hour.

A lot more marching,
a lot less McDonald’s.

I give her the thumbs up
with two shirts
and the thumbs down
with four others

and we head
toward the
cash.

Hoping the ladies of Russia
are buying shirts
that make their breasts look big
as well.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan Black & White

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a happily unmarried proud father of none. His work can be found both in print and online. He has an affinity for dragonflies, discount tequila, and all things sarcastic.

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