I’m about to reach max saturation Turn completely spherical Leave a slug trail when I roll
At first it’s frightening Feeling more and less of different intervals and levels
Then it’s exhausting and awful Then you get used to it
Still I bet you this One day you’re out somewhere maybe the park You bump into someone you haven’t seen in awhile Between the how longs and now what’s they say something Maybe the time you puked in geography Or marital problems Or trees smell like antique cardboard
Shia Labeouf will play me in the biopic about my life and he’ll fucking nail it
Loitering in the cologne section of Walgreens, pouring every bottle of Davidoff Cool Water over my head, screaming at the manager about how unfairly I’m treated on Goodreads will be my rise to stardom.
My grandpa was talking about his friend Who he says has gone crazy and is hearing voices He says the voices are evil and tell you to kill yourself He says that she is on meds now But she is not the same on the pickle ball court.
The logger longed for a daughter and when his daughter arrived he was crushed by a truck, stuck between tree and spleen. The daughter remembers nothing of her logger father but her hands do not dance around a saw.
When the War Formed
When the war formed in our corner of the room we moved to another corner of the room. We’re safe here, we said to each other, eyeing the corner with the war. When the war found us in our new corner we stepped out of the window and took to the roof. We could hear the war below us, fighting and writhing, such muffled exhaust. We’re safe here, we said to each other, our dying phones ringing with pleas.
It was a long line to the coal mine so we left early and arrived late. The animals inside of the mine were praying or they were dead. We will try again and again.
Benjamin Niespodziany is a Pushcart Prize nominee and Best Microfiction nominee. He has been featured in the Wigleaf Top 50 and has had work appear in Hobart, Maudlin House, X-R-A-Y, Screaming into a Horse’s Mouth, and various others. He works nights in a library in Chicago.
When you roughed up the snake charmer you forgot about the snake and got bit. Don’t worry I will bring a hammer. When I get there I will bring the hammer down. For now keep one eye on the snake and one eye on your swelling venom filled blood vessels. Today started with such up-tempo preparation drinking coffee standing up thinking you could walk into anywhere and talk them into hiring you full time, thinking you were headed towards an X marked treasure chest. Soon after, the day revealed its inability to send positive plotlines your way. I even heard 911 left a voicemail message word for word imitating a voicemail message you left them proving you are a cotton candy brain. You’ve probably got soft fluffy bunnies in your picture book. I get bundled up indoors and go outdoors. One week into January I am disintegrated and reconstructed into a bag of frozen vegetables. I cartwheel over moving traffic headed your way. When I get there you are dead and the snake is gone. The charmer sees the snake in his dreams.
& i’m the michael jordan of shooting james bond in the stomach a dozen times you can’t even handle a pork hammer sandwich we didn’t come to america for the christmas brisket that drips off the bone like spoiled ice cream because i’m the winnie-the-pooh of eating pussy you’re the annie oakley of watching me eat pussy you’re the harriet tubman of doing heroin
Mostly we are waiting For whatever crumb From the table of grief Has lodged itself into tonight’s parade Of mashing buttons and gnashing teeth To name itself then disappear
I get the sticky controller That Mac spilled a Natty on in August And am stuck jumping the whole game But still beat Chris Who’s almost a year behind in practice And refuses to choose any character but random
I’m high as balls and my cousin is doing 90 around the f-zero highways I’m a little worried cuz he’s really ripping the pen but His tolerance is way higher than mine which also worries me but in a way less immediate way