Suspicious Glitches

poetry that pairs well with the apocalypse and a nice merlot

The Serious Game

This is the excitement you won’t be
having, these are your un-
wanted breakfast crumbs blended into
a brand new dish, these are
 
the screams from outside, maybe
desperate, maybe
drunk, maybe simian impulses tapping
your eardrums back into their
 
natural
teenage state. You
expect never-ending daydreams and
pixies who allow you to
control
them without a
 
script. You shout, “Line!” during
the dance routine, you
are told to uncurl
your fist. These are the
hundreds of faces that
cannot make you
love yourself.

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