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.

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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.