Categories
poetry

god went out for cigarettes

monday morning

snaps head to the left

two vertebrae crack

head to the right

three

i’m out of coffee

it’s 70 degrees in the december

of our mass extinction

my friend is dead

yet the train still has the nerve to run

somewhere a toddler is firing a gun

my sons will always have autism

i need to see my mother before long

god went out for cigarettes

and never came back home

take small comforts in

the vices and rituals

you know

in the end

the earth will shrug

as it watches us go

 

 

 

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