By Cletus Crow
Playthings
I’m thinking about if we were action figures. Your action figure would include a smaller action figure of me. As a boy, I knew boys who strapped bottle rockets onto their sisters’ Barbies. Let’s hold each other, quickly, before something explodes us. I don’t know what tomorrow holds but itself.
Writing
Darwin says we were lizards. Three thousand dollars later my cat’s alive. She swallowed a needle. I almost compare the needle to self-harm or depression. Not that long ago we were fucking in mud, trying to find bugs to eat.
Thursday Night
I play Call of Duty online with my brother. It’s easier to talk when we’re not face to face. My cat kneads my stomach. There’s so much love on me I sink through the couch, through the earth’s crust and into its core. I live where, in science textbook cross sections, the planet has a bullet wound.
Butterfly Effect
Last night I dreamed of another world where humans had square nipples. This changed our lives for the better in surprising and numerous ways.
Cletus Crow is a writer. His poetry collection, Phallic Symbols, is forthcoming from Pig Roast Publishing.