I think the end of the world is tomorrow
this morning was all granola & coffee grounds,
my veins choking on themselves as cinder blocks fall off the building across the street.
they say a cigarette takes 7 minutes off your life.
calling for an ambulance is a good 2 weeks pay.
I’m scared for tomorrow.
I buy the game of life just to read the instruction manual.
I have sex with my wife & that’s good.
I pet my dog & that’s good, too.
I eat a burrito & that’s at least ok.
sometimes I dream but the dreams never come when I’m asleep.
my psychiatrist doubles my dosage. I tell the pills to hurry up.
I chainsmoke menthols on my balcony.
7+7+7+7 & I’m losing count before dusk.
someone keeps shooting the storks out of the sky.
everywhere is a shooting range if you’re holding a gun.
it’s been a tough two years. still.
I promise my mother I will outlive her. still.
my father still has both of his feet. still.
born, my sister never got the chance to learn how to speak.
Lee Patterson’s writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Ethel Zine, isacoustic*, Flash Flood, and The Airgonaut, among others. His chapbook, I get sad, is forthcoming from Ethel Zine in late 2019.
