Poetry 2014 / Volume 45

Stupid Childish Ecstasy — Alan Jernigan

Some people are having a really good time over there. Over in the darkness, a blob of diaper creepers herds itself over to a tattered lake. I’m going to go to sleep and inevitably dream about something better than my life. I have a hard time believing that the most common name ever is John Smith—it’s probably something more like Elephant Killer or Red Harvey. Remember those Yaz commercials where the women sit around all happy, just talking and having clits? Yeah, that’s not my fucking life.

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