21/30: Whoops?

The prompt was to give a gift to someone you dislike, to kill them with kindness.  I think I failed?

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For him, a bouquet.  A parade,

an award.  Rows and rows of medals.

For him, the winning ticket

to the lottery. An all expense paid

vacation.  A new suit, a new ride,

a new house, a smile as wide

as a dozen dozen Niles.

For him, a bouquet

of bees that know exactly

where to sting.  Then parade him

through the streets, a sign hung

round his neck like an award,

“I Fuck Women Without Their Consent.”

A one way ticket

the hell out of town, off this planet,

shoot him into space, one way,

what a lovely vacation, eyes plucked out

so he can’t enjoy the view.  For him,

a freshly-fitted iron maiden, dressed

to the nines, with a pair of concrete

shoes.  A prison van to deliver him

to his own personal Alcatraz

where he’ll never be admitted.  Because I’ll

be waiting

at the gate

with a knife

to carve
in the soft flesh
of his neck

a smile as wide

as a dozen dozen Niles.