Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Chronic Wasting

A coyote with golden and grey fur walked into a hospital with wildflowers in his mouth. The flowers were droopy and damp, and clumps of dirty roots were still connected at the bases. The coyote walked down the corridors with busy doctors and nurses, and no one paid him a second glance. He went into an open elevator, reared up on his hind legs, and pressed the button for the sixth floor with his paw.

On the sixth floor, he made his way down the hall to room 623. It was completely silent in the hallway except for his footsteps, and when he arrived at his destination, he reared up again to open the door and walk inside.

It was a standard hospital room. There were some chairs, a window with metal bars on it, and a bed surrounded by all sorts of medical devices. Outside the window was the night sky, but there was no moon present, and the stars couldn't pierce the thick clouds. In the bed there was a doe. She woke up from a deep sleep the very second the door opened, but she did not look frightened, or even fully awake.

The coyote dropped the dirty flowers on the floor and nudged them a few inches forward with his nose. He looked up at the doe, surrounded by comfortable blankets and beeping machines. 

“I’ve come here to kill you,” he said.

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

-PSA for the Rapture-

Even the air between us
is room for the darkness
to grow.

The things you do,
the words you utter,
the memories you recall,
all of these are being
watched and studied.

A note has been taken
for all your sins,
and the list is adding up.

You will face the beast
made of your mistakes one day,
and no weapon will avail you.

You will only survive if
you reconcile yourself
with your secrets.

-Pious Ants-

Oh Goddess of Memory,
let me forget the things
I don’t want to remember
and remember the things
I don’t want to forget.

Because you see,
oh Goddess of Memory,
I don’t want to remember
my time in traffic.
I don’t want to remember
petty arguments with important people,
but it would be nice
to know when I need to take
the garbage out
and water the plants
without a second thought.

You probably consider me
an ant,
oh Goddess of Memory,
but the memories I carry
weigh a thousand times
more than my body weight.

To be honest,
I can’t get rid of them.
The memories swarm around me
like wasps seeking a new colony,

            so go ahead
            and spray poison on my thoughts,
            oh Goddess of Memory,

            so that new moments of traffic
            are met with the tiny death
            that all the best memories
            also become.